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This  book  must-  not 
be  token  from  the 
Library  building. 


Form  No.  471 


WHEN  MEN  GREW  TALL 
OR  THE   STORY   OF 

ANDREW  JACKSON 


(2^^^^/^^'^^^^^^^^^''^^ 


WHEN   MEN  GREW  TALL 
OR  THE   STORY  OF 

ANDREW  JACKSON 


BY 


ALFRED    HENRY    LEWIS 


ILLUSTRATED 


D.    APPLETON     AND     COMPANY 
NEW     YORK 

1907 


Copyright,  1907,  by 
D.   APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1906,  1907,  by 
INTERNATIONAL  MAGAZINE  COMPANY 


Puhlislied  November,  1907 


TO 

THEODORE    ROOSEVELT 

THAT     MAN     OF     THE     PUBLIC 

FOR     WHOM     I     HAVE     MOST     REGARD 

AND    FROM    WHOSE    FUTURE    I    AS 

AN    AMERICAN    MOST    HOPE 

THIS    VOLUME    IS 

DEDICATED 

A.   H.   L. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. — Old  Salisbury  and  the  Law 

II. — The  Rowan  House  Supper  . 

III. — The  Blooming  Rachel  .... 

IV. — Col.  Waightstill  Avery  Offends 

V. — The  Winning  of  a  Wife 

VI. — Dead-shot  Dickinson     .... 

VII. — How  the  General  Fought  . 

VIII. — England  and  Grim-visaged  War 

IX. — The  General  at  the  Horseshoe 

X. — Florida  Delenda  Est    .... 

XI. — The  Two  Flags  at  Pensacola    . 

XII. — The  General  Goes  to  New  Orleans 

XIII. — The  Watch-fires  of  the  English     . 

XIV. — The  Battle  in  the  Dark     . 

XV. — Cotton  Bales  and  Sugar  Casks 

XVI. — The  Eighth  of  January 

XVIL — The  Slaughter  among  the  Stubble 

XVIII. — Odds  and  Ends  of  Time 

vii 


PAGE 

3 
13 
25 
33 

45 

59 

71 

83 

97 

113 
127 

141 

155 

169 

181 

195 
209 

225 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX. — The  Killing  Edge  of  Slander  .        .       .  239 

XX. — The  General  Goes  to  the  White  House  251 

XXI. — ^Wizard  Lewis  Urges  a  Change  of  Front  265 

XXII. — The  Downfall  of  Machiavelli  Clay      .  279 

XXIII. — The   Federal  Union.     It  Must  be   Pre- 
served          293 

XXIV. — The  Rout  of  Treason 309 

XXV. — The  Grave  at  the  Garden's  Foot  .       .  323 


Vlll 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING 
PAGE 


Andrew  Jackson Frontispiece 

Mrs.  Rachel  Jackson 46 

Aaron  Burr — From  a  painting  by  J.  Vandyke        .        .  62 

Interview  between  General  Jackson  and  Weathersford  .  108 

General  William   C.  C.  Claiborne — From   a  miniature 
by  A.  Duval 146 

Major-General  Andrew  Jackson  at  New  Orleans — From 
a  painting  by  Chappel 172 

Jackson  at  the  Battle  of  New  Orleans — From  a  paint- 
ing by  D.  M.  Carter 200 

Death  of  Pakenham  at  the  Battle  of  New  Orleans — 
From  a  painting  by  F.  O.  C.  Darley      ....   212 

Andrew  Jackson — From  a  painting  by  R.  E.  W.  Earl  .    226 

John  Quincy  Adams 240 

Henry  Clay 246 

Edward   Livingston — From  a  drawing  by  J.  B.  Long- 
acre 268 

Daniel  Webster 288 

John  C.  Calhoun 302 

Martin  Van  Buren 316 

Andrew  Jackson — From  a  portrait  at  The  Hermitage, 
April  15,  1845 .        .326 


IX 


SALISBURY    AND    THE    LAW 


CHAPTER    I 

SALISBURY   AND   THE    LAW 

IN  this  year  of  our  Lord's  grace,  1787, 
the  ancient  town  of  Sahsbury,  seat  of  jus- 
tice for  Rowan  County,  and  the  buzzing 
metropolis  of  its  region,  numbers  by  word  of 
a  partisan  citizenry  eight  hundred  souls.  Its 
streets  are  unpaved,  and  present  an  unbroken 
expanse  of  red  North  Carolina  clay  from  one 
narrow  plank  sidewalk  to  another.  In  the  sum- 
mer, if  the  weather  be  dry,  the  red  clay  resolves 
itself  into  blinding  brick-red  dust.  In  the 
spring,  when  the  rains  fall,  it  lapses  into  brick- 
red  mud,  and  the  Salisbury  streets  become  bot- 
tomless morasses,  the  despair  of  travelers.  Just 
now,  it  being  a  bright  October  afternoon  and 
a  shower  having  paid  the  town  a  visit  but  an 
hour  before,  the  streets  offer  no  suggestion  of 
either  mud  or  dust,  but  are  as  clean  and  straight 
and  beautiful  as  a  good  man's  morals.  Trees 
rank  either  side,   and  their  branches  interlock 

3 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

overhead.  These  make  every  street  a  cathedral 
aisle,  groined  and  arched  In  leafy  green. 

In  one  of  the  suburbs,  that  Is  to  say  about 
pistol  shot  from  the  town's  commercial  center, 
stands  a  two-story  mansion.  It  Is  painted 
white,  and  thereby  distinguished  above  Its  neigh- 
bors, and  has  a  heavily  columned  veranda  all 
across  Its  wide  face.  This  edifice  Is  the  resi- 
dence of  Spruce  McCay,  a  foremost  member 
of  the  Rowan  County  bar. 

In  a  corner  of  the  lawn,  which  unfolds  ver- 
dantly In  front  of  the  house,  Is  a  one-story  one- 
room  structure,  the  law  office  of  Spruce  McCay. 
Inside  are  two  or  three  pine  desks,  much  visited 
of  knives  In  the  past,  and  a  half-dozen  ram- 
shackle chairs,  which  have  seen  stronger  if  not 
better  days.  Also  there  Is  a  collection  of 
shelves;  and  these  latter  hold  scores  of  law 
books,  among  which  "  Blackstone's  Commen- 
taries," ''  Coke  on  Littleton,"  and  "  Hales's 
Pleas  of  the  Crown  "  are  given  prominent  place. 
The  books  show  musty  and  dog-eared,  and  It  Is 
many  years  since  the  youngest  among  them  came 
from  the  printing  press. 

On  this  October  afternoon,  the  office  has  but 
one  occupant.  He  Is  tall,  being  six  feet  and  an 
inch,  and  so  slim  and  meager  that  he  seems  six 

4 


SALISBURY     AND     THE     LAW 

Inches  taller.  Besides,  he  stands  as  straight  as 
a  lance,  with  nothing  of  stoop  to  his  narrow 
shoulders,  and  this  has  the  effect  of  augmenting 
his  height. 

The  face  is  a  boy's  face.  It  is  likewise  of  the 
sort  called  "horse";  with  hollow  cheeks  and 
lantern  jaws.  The  forehead  Is  high  and  nar- 
row. The  yellow  hair  is  long,  and  tied  in  a 
cue  with  an  eelskln — for  eelsklns  are  according 
to  the  latest  fashionable  command  sent  up  from 
Charleston.  The  redeeming  feature  to  the 
horse  face  is  the  eyes.  These  are  big  and  blue 
and  deep,  and  tell  of  a  mighty  power  for  either 
love  or  hate.  They  are  Scotch-Irish  eyes,  loyal 
eyes,  steadfast  eyes,  and  of  that  inveterate 
breed  which  if  aroused  can  outstare,  outdoml- 
neer  Satan. 

As  adding  to  the  horse  face  a  look  of  com- 
mand, w^hlch  sets  well  with  those  blue  eyes — 
so  capable  of  tenderness  and  ferocity — Is  a  high 
predatory  nose.  The  mouth,  thin-lipped  and 
wide.  Is  replete  of  what  folk  call  character,  but 
does  nothing  to  soften  a  general  expression 
which  Is  nothing  if  not  iron.  And  yet  the  last 
word  Is  applicable  only  at  times.  The  horse 
face  never  turns  iron-hard  unless  danger  presses, 
or  perilous  deeds  are  to  be  done.     In  easier, 

5 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

relaxed  hours  one  finds  no  sternness  there,  but 
gayety  and  lightness  and  a  love  of  pleasure. 

In  dress  the  horse-faced  boy  is  rather  the  fop, 
with  a  bottle-green  surtout  of  latest  cut,  high- 
collared,  long-tailed,  open  to  display  a  flowered 
waistcoat  of  as  many  hues  as  May,  from  which 
struggles  a  rufHe  stiff  with  starch.  The  horse- 
faced  boy  has  his  predatory  nose  buried  in  a 
law  book.  This  is  as  It  should  be,  for  he  is  a 
student  of  the  learned  Spruce  McCay. 

There  comes  a  step  at  the  door;  the  horse- 
faced  boy  takes  his  nose  from  between  the  covers 
of  the  book.  Spruce  McCay  walks  in,  and 
throws  himself  carelessly  into  a  seat.  He  is 
a  square,  hearty  man,  with  nose  up-tilted  and 
eager,  as  though  somewhere  in  the  distance  it 
sniffed  an  orchard.  He  is  of  middle  years,  and 
well  arrived  at  that  highest  ground,  just  where 
the  pathway  of  life  begins  to  slope  downward 
toward  the  final  yet  still  distant  grave. 

Spruce  McCay  glances  at  a  paper  or  two  on 
his  desk.  Then,  shoving  all  aside,  he  fills  and 
lights  a  corn-cob  pipe.  Through  the  smoke 
rings  he  surveys  the  horse-faced  boy;  plainly  he 
meditates  a  communication. 

"Andy,  I've  been  thinking  you  over." 

Andy  says  "  Yes?  "  expectantly. 

6 


SALISBURY    AND    THE     LAW 

"  You  should  cross  the  mountains." 

The  blue  eyes  take  on  a  bluer  glint,  and  light 
up  the  horse  face  like  azure  lamps. 

"  Yes,  a  new  country  Is  the  place  for  you. 
You  are  now  about  to  be  admitted  to  practice 
law;  not  because  you  know  law,  but  for  the 
reason  that  I  have  recommended  It.  As  I  say, 
you  have  little  law  knowledge;  but  you  possess 
courage,  brains,  perseverance,  honesty,  pru- 
dence and  divers  other  traits,  which  you  take 
from  your  Carrickfergus  ancestors.  These 
should  carry  you  farther  In  the  wilderness  than 
any  knowledge  of  the  books." 

The  predatory  nose  snorts,  and  the  horse  face 
begins  to  glow  resentfully. 

"  You  think  I  know  no  law?  " 

"No  more  than  does  Necessity!  Not 
enough  to  keep  you  from  being  laughed  at  in 
Rowan  County !  How  should  you  ?  Your  at- 
tention and  your  Interest  have  both  run  away  to 
other  things.  I've  watched  you  for  two  years 
past.  You  are  deep  In  the  lore  of  cockfight- 
Ing,  but  guiltless  of  the  Commentaries  of  our 
worthy  Master  Blackstone.  If  I  were  to  ask 
you  for  the  Rule  In  Shelly's  Case,  you  would 
be  posed.  At  the  same  time  you  could  expound 
every  rule  that  governs  a  horse  race.  In  brief 
3  7 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

you  are  accomplished  in  many  gentlemanly 
things,  while  as  barren  of  law  learning  as  a 
Hottentot.  Now  if  you  were  a  lad  of  fortune, 
instead  of  being  as  poor  as  the  crows,  you  might 
easily  cut  a  figure  of  elegant  idleness  on  the 
North  Carolina  circuits.  But  you  lack  utterly 
of  that  money  required  to  gild  and  make  toler- 
able your  ignorance  here  at  home.  In  the  woods 
along  the  Cumberland,  that  is  to  say  in  the  Nash- 
ville and  Jonesboro  courts,  where  ignorance  and 
poverty  are  the  rule,  your  deficiencies  will  count 
for  trifles.  Also  you  will  be  surrounded  by 
conditions  that  promote  courage,  honesty  and 
quickness  to  a  first  importance.  On  the  Cum- 
berland the  fact  that  you  are  a  dead  shot  with 
rifle  or  pistol,  and  can  back  the  most  unman- 
ageable horse  that  ever  looked  through  a  bridle, 
will  place  you  higher  in  the  confidence  of  men 
than  would  all  the  law  that  Hobart,  Hales  and 
Hawkins  ever  knew.  Now  don't  get  angry. 
Think  over  what  IVe  said;  the  longer  you  look 
at  it,  the  more  you'll  feel  that  I  am  right.  I'll 
see  that  you  are  given  your  sheepskin  as  a 
lawyer;  and,  when  you  decide  to  migrate,  I'll 
have  you  commissioned  in  that  new  country  as 
attorney  for  the  state.  This  last  will  send  you 
headlong  into  the  midst  of  a  backwoods  prac- 

8 


SALISBURY    AND     THE     LAW 

tice,  where  those  native  virtues  you  own  should 
find  a  field  for  their  exercise,  and  your  talents 
for  cockfighting  and  horse  racing,  added  to  your 
absolute  genius  for  firearms,  be  sure  to  advance 
you  far." 

Spruce  McCay  raps  the  ashes  from  his  corn- 
cob pipe.  Just  then  one  of  the  house  negroes 
taps  at  the  door,  as  preliminary  to  intruding 
a  respectful  head.  The  respectful  head  an- 
nounces that  visitors  have  arrived  at  the  big 
white  mansion.  Spruce  McCay  at  this  quits  the 
office,  and  the  horse-faced  Andy  finds  himself 
alone. 

For  one  hour  he  ponders  the  unpalatable 
words  of  his  w^orthy  master.  His  vanity  has 
been  hurt;  his  self-love  ruffled.  None  the  less 
he  feels  that  a  deal  of  truth  lies  tucked  away 
in  what  Spruce  McCay  has  said.  Besides  a 
plunge  into  the  untried  wilderness  rather 
matches  his  taste,  and  a  promised  state's  attor- 
neyship is  not  to  be  despised. 

As  the  horse-faced  Andy  ruminates  these 
things,  laughter  and  much  joyous  clatter  is 
heard  at  the  door.  This  time  it  Is  his  two  fel- 
low students,  Crawford  and  McNalry.  These 
young  gentlemen  have  been  out  with  their  guns, 
and  now  present  themselves  w^ith  a  double  back- 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

load  of  quails  as  the  fruits  of  It.  The  pair  be- 
gin vociferously  to  Inform  the  horse-faced  Andy 
concerning  their  day's  adventures.  He  halts 
the  conversational  flow  with  a  repressive  lift  of 
the  hand. 

"  Gentlemen,"  says  he,  with  a  vast  affectation 
of  dignity,  and  as  though  sixty  were  the  years 
of  each  Instead  of  twenty,  "  I  desire  your  com- 
pany at  supper  In  my  rooms.  Come  at  7 
o'clock.  I  shall  have  news  for  you — news,  and 
a  proposition." 


II 

THE    ROWAN    HOUSE    SUPPER 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    ROWAN    HOUSE    SUPPER 

THE  horse-faced  Andy  precedes  the 
coming  of  his  two  friends  to  that 
supper  by  two  hours.  As  he  moves 
up  the  street  toward  the  Rowan  House,  fair 
faces  beam  on  him  and  fair  hands  wave  him  a 
salutation  from  certain  Salisbury  verandas.  In 
return  he  doffs  his  hat  with  an  exaggerated 
politeness,  which  becomes  him  as  the  acknowl- 
edged beau  of  the  town.  One  cannot  blame 
those  beaming  fair  faces  and  those  saluting 
hands.  Slim,  elegant,  confident  with  a  kind  of 
polished  cockyness  that  does  not  ill  become  his 
years,  our  horse-faced  one  possesses  what  the 
world  calls  "presence."  No  one  will  look  on  him 
without  being  impressed;  he  is  congenitally  re- 
markable, and  to  see  him  once  is  to  ever  after- 
ward expect  to  hear  him.  Besides,  for  all  his 
foppishness,  there  is  a  scar  on  his  sandy  head, 
and  a  second  on  his  hand,  which  were  made  by 

13 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

an  English  saber  when  he  had  no  more  than 
entered  upon  his  teens.  Also  he  has  shed  Eng- 
lish blood  to  pay  for  those  scars;  and  in  a  day 
which  still  heaves  and  tosses  with  the  ground 
swells  of  the  Revolution,  such  stark  matters 
brevet  one  to  the  respect  of  men  and  the  love 
of  women. 

The  foppish,  horse-faced  Andy  strides  Into 
the  Rowan  House.  In  the  long-room  he  meets 
mine  host  Brown,  who  has  fame  as  a  publi- 
can, and  none  as  a  sinner,  throughout  North 
Carolina. 

*'  Supper  In  my  rooms,  Mr.  Brown,"  com- 
mands our  hero;  "  supper  for  three.  Have  It 
hot  and  ready  at  sharp  seven.  Also  let  us  have 
plenty  of  whisky  and  tobacco." 

Mine  host  Brown  says  that  all  shall  be  as 
ordered. 

The  foppish  Andy,  with  that  grave  manner 
of  dignity  which  laughs  at  his  boyish  twenty 
years,  explains  to  his  landlord  that  he  will  call 
for  his  bill  in  the  morning. 

"  Have  my  horse,  Cherokee,"  he  says,  "  well 
groomed  and  saddled.  To-morrow  I  leave 
Salisbury." 

"Going  West?" 

"  West,"  returns  Andy. 

14 


ROWAN     HOUSE     SUPPER 

*'  As  to  the  bill,"  ventures  mine  host  Brown, 
*'  would  you  like  to  play  a  game  of  all-fours, 
and  make  it  double  or  nothing?  " 

Andy  the  horse-faced  hesitates. 

"  You  have  such  vile  luck,"  he  says,  as  though 
remonstrating  with  mine  host  Brown  for  a  fault. 
*'  It  seems  shameful  to  play  with  you,  since  you 
never  win." 

Mine  host  Brown  looks  sheepishly  apologetic. 

*'  For  one  as  eager  to  play  as  I  am,"  he  re- 
sponds, "  It  does  look  as  though  I  ought  to 
know  more  about  the  game.  However,  since 
It's  your  last  night,  we  might  as  well  preserve 
a  record." 

Andy  the  horse-faced  yields  to  the  rabid 
anxiety  of  mine  host  Brown  to  gamble.  The 
game  shall  be  played  presently;  meanwhile,  there 
is  an  errand  which  takes  him  to  his  rooms. 

Andy  goes  to  his  rooms;  mine  host  Brown, 
after  preparing  a  table  In  the  long-room  for  the 
promised  game,  saunters  fatly — being  rotund  as 
a  publican  should  be — Into  the  kitchen,  to  leave 
directions  concerning  that  triangular  supper. 
There  he  encounters  his  wife,  as  rotund  as  him- 
self, supervising  the  energies  of  a  phalanx  of 
black  Amazons,  who  form  the  culinary  forces 
of  the  Rowan  House. 

15 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

"  Young  Jackson  leaves  In  the  morning, 
mother,"  observes  mine  host  Brown  to  Mrs. 
Brown,  whom  he  always  addresses  as 
"  mother." 

"For  good?"  asks  Mrs.  Brown,  who  is 
singeing  the  pin  feathers  from  a  chicken  of  much 
fatness,  and  exceeding  yellow  as  to  leg. 

"  Oh,  I  knew  he  was  going,"  returns  mine 
host  Brown,  rather  irrelevantly.  "  Spruce  Mc- 
Cay  told  me  that  he  was  about  to  advise  him  to 
emigrate  to  the  western  counties.  Spruce  says 
the  Cumberland  country  is  just  the  place  for 
him." 

"And  now  I  suppose,"  remarks  Mrs.  Brown, 
"  you'll  let  him  win  a  good-by  game  of  cards, 
to  square  his  bill." 

"Why  not?"  returns  mine  host  Brown. 
"He's  got  no  money;  never  had  any  money. 
You  yourself  said,  when  he  came  here,  to  give 
him  his  board  free,  because  you  knew  and  loved 
his  dead  mother.  Now  the  Christian  thing  is  to 
let  him  win  it.  In  that  way  his  pride  is  saved; 
at  the  same  time  it  gives  me  amusement." 

"  Well,  Marmaduke,"  says  Mrs.  Brown, 
moving  off  with  the  yellow-legged  fowl,  "  I'm 
sure  I  don't  care  how  you  manage,  only  so  you 
don't  take  his  money." 

i6 


ROWAN     HOUSE     SUPPER 

"  There  never  was  a  chance,  mother.  He 
never  has  any  money,  after  his  clothes  are 
bought." 

The  game  of  all-fours  is  played;  and  is  won 
by  Andy  of  the  horse  face,  who  thereby  rounds 
off  a  run  of  card-luck  that  has  continued  un- 
broken for  two  years. 

"  It  looks  as  though  Vd  never  beat  you!  " 
exclaims  mine  host  Brown,  pretending  sadness 
and  imitating  a  sigh. 

"  You  ought  never  to  gamble,"  advises  the 
horse-faced  Andy  solemnly. 

Mine  host  Brown  produces  his  bill,  wherein 
the  charges  for  board,  lodging,  laundry,  tobacco, 
and  whisky  in  pints,  quarts  and  gallons  are  set 
down  on  one  side,  to  be  balanced  and  acquitted 
by  divers  sums  lost  at  all-fours,  the  same  being 
noted  opposite. 

"There  you  are!  All  square!"  says  mine 
host  Brown. 

"  But  the  charges  for  to-night's  supper?  " 

*'  Mother  " — meaning  Mrs.  Brown — "  says 
the  supper  is  to  be  with  her  compliments." 

Steaming  hot,  the  supper  comes  promptly  at 
seven.  It  is  followed,  steaming  hot,  by  un- 
limited whisky  punch.  Pipes  are  lighted,  and, 
with  glasses  at  easy  hand,  the  three  boys  draw 

17 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

about  the  fire.  The  punch,  the  pipes,  and  the 
crackling  log  fire  are  very  comfortable  adjuncts 
on  an  October  night. 

"And  now,"  cries  Crawford,  who  Is  full  of 
life  and  interest,  "  now  for  the  news  and  the 
proposition!  " 

McNairy  nods  owlish  assent  to  the  words  of 
his  volatile  friend.  He  intends  one  day  to  be 
a  judge,  and,  while  quite  as  lively  as  Crawford, 
seizes  on  occasions  such  as  this  to  practice  his 
features  in  a  formidable  woolsack  gravity. 

"  First,"  observes  Andy,  soberly  sipping  his 
punch,  "let  me  put  a  question:  What  is  my 
standing  in  Rowan  County?  " 

"  You  are  the  recognized  authority,"  cries 
Crawford,  "  on  dog  fighting,  cockfighting,  and 
horse  racing." 

McNalry  nods. 

"  Humph!  "  says  Andy.  Then,  on  the  heels 
of  a  pause:  "And  what  should  you  say  were 
my  chief  accomplishments?  " 

Again  Crawford  takes  it  upon  himself  to 
reply. 

"  You  ride,  shoot,  run,  jump,  wrestle,  dance 
and  make  love  beyond  expression." 

McNalry  the  judicial  nods. 

"  Humph!  "  says  Andy. 

i8 


ROWAN     HOUSE     SUPPER 

The  trio  puff  and  sip  In  silence. 

"  You  say  nothing  for  my  knowledge  of 
law?  "  This  from  the  disgruntled  Andy,  with 
a  rising  inflection  that  Is  like  finding  fault. 

"  No !  "  cry  the  others  In  hearty  concert. 

"  You  wouldn't  believe  us  if  we  did,"  adds 
McNalry  of  the  future  woolsack. 

"  Neither  would  the  Judge,"  returns  Andy 
cynically.  "  The  Judge  "  Is  the  title  by  which 
the  three  designate  their  master,  Spruce  Mc- 
Cay.  Andy  goes  on:  "  The  news  I  promised 
Is  this.  To-morrow  I  leave  Salisbury.  The 
Judge  has  recommended  my  admission  to  the 
bar,  and  I  shall  take  the  oath  and  get  my  license 
before  I  start.  I  shall  transfer  myself  to  the 
region  along  the  Cumberland,  where  I  am  told 
a  barrister  of  my  singular  lack  of  ability  should 
find  plenty  of  practice." 

"  Why  do  you  leave  old  Rowan?  "  asks  wool- 
sack McNalry,  beginning  to  take  an  Interest. 

"  Because  I  have  no  education,  less  law,  and 
still  less  money.  It  seems  that  these  are  condi- 
tions precedent  to  staying  In  Rowan  with 
credit." 

"  Well,"  cries  McNalry  the  judicial,  grasp- 
ing Andy's  long  bony  hand,  "  you  have  as  much 
education,  as  much  law,  and  as  much  money  as 

19 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

L  Under  the  circumstances  I  shall  go  with 
you." 

"  And  I,"  breaks  in  the  lively  Crawford, 
*'  since  I  have  none  of  those  ignorant  and  pov- 
erty-eaten qualifications  you  name,  but  on  the 
contrary  am  rich,  wise  and  learned — I  shall  re- 
main here.  When  the  wilderness  casts  you  fel- 
lows out,  come  back  and  I  shall  welcome  you. 
Pending  which — as  Parson  Hicks  would  say — 
receive  my. blessing." 

The  evening  wears  on  amid  clouds  of  tobacco 
smoke  and  rivers  of  punch.  At  the  close  the 
three  take  hold  of  hands,  and  sing  a  farewell 
song  very  badly.  Then,  since  they  look  on  the 
evening  as  a  sacred  one,  they  wind  up  by  break- 
ing the  pipes  they  have  smoked  and  the  glasses 
they  have  drunk  from,  to  save  them  In  the  here- 
after from  profane  and  vulgar  uses.  At  last, 
rather  deviously,  they  make  their  various  ways 
to  bed. 

The  next  day,  young  Andrew  Jackson,  bar- 
rister and  counselor  at  law,  with  all  his  belong- 
ings— save  the  rifle  he  carries,  and  the  pistols 
In  his  saddle  holsters — crowded  into  a  pair  of 
saddlebags,  rides  out  of  Salisbury  on  his  bay 
horse  Cherokee.  He  will  stop  at  Martinsville 
for   a   space,    awaiting   the   judicial   McNairy. 

20 


ROWAN     HOUSE     SUPPER 

Then  the  pair  are  to  set  their  willing,  hopeful 
faces  for  the  Cumberland. 

As  Andy  the  horse-faced  rides  away  that  Oc- 
tober afternoon,  Henry  Clay  is  a  fatherless  boy 
of  nine,  living  with  his  mother  at  the  Virginia 
Slashes;  Daniel  Webster,  a  sickly  child  of  six, 
is  toddling  about  his  father's  New  Hampshire 
farm;  John  C.  Calhoun  is  a  baby  four  years  old 
In  a  South  Carolina  farmhouse;  John  Quincy 
Adams,  nineteen  and  just  home  from  a  polishing 
trip  to  France,  is  a  Harvard  student;  Martin 
Van  Buren,  aged  four,  Is  playing  about  the  tap 
room  of  his  Dutch  father's  tavern  at  Kinder- 
hook;  while  Aaron  Burr,  fortunate,  foremost 
and  full  of  promise,  has  already  won  high  sta- 
tion at  the  New  York  bar.  None  of  these  has 
ever  heard  of  Andy  the  horse-faced,  nor  he  of 
them;  yet  one  and  all  they  are  fated  to  grow 
well  acquainted  with  one  another  in  the  years  to 
come,  and  before  the  curtain  is  rung  finally  down 
on  that  tragedy-comedy-farce  which,  played  to 
benches  ever  full  and  ever  empty,  men  call  Ex- 
istence. 


Ill 

THE    BLOOMING    RACHEL 


CHAPTER    III 

THE    BLOOMING   RACHEL 

NASHVILLE  is  the  merest  scrambling 
huddle  of  log  houses.  The  most 
imposing  edifice  is  a  blockhouse, 
built  of  logs  squared  by  the  broadaxe.  It  is  the 
home  of  the  widow  Donelson ;  and,  since  it  is  all 
her  husband  left  her  when  the  Indians  shot  him 
down  at  the  plow-stilts,  and  because  she  must 
live,  the  widow  Donelson  has  turned  the  block- 
house into  a  boarding  house. 

With  the  widow  Donelson  dwells  her  daugh- 
ter Rachel,  a  beautiful  brunette  of  twenty,  and 
the  belle  of  the  Cumberland.  Rachel  is  viva- 
cious and  bright;  and,  while  there  is  much  con- 
fusion among  her  nouns,  pronouns,  verbs  and 
adverbs  in  the  matters  of  case,  number,  and 
tense,  she  shines  forth  an  indomitable  conversa- 
tionist. With  frontier  freedom  she  laughs 
with  everybody,  jests  with  everybody,  delights 
in   everybody's  admiration;   and  this  does  not 

25 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

please  her  husband,  Lewis  Robards,  who  is  ig- 
norant, suspicious,  narrow,  lazy,  shiftless,  jeal- 
ous, and  generally  drunk.  One  time  and  an- 
other he  has  accused  Rachel  of  a  tenderness  for 
every  man  in  the  settlement,  and  their  quarrels 
have  been  frequent  and  fierce. 

It  is  evening;  the  widow  Donelson  is  prepar- 
ing supper  for  the  half  dozen  boarders,  assisted 
by  the  blooming  Rachel.  The  moody  Robards, 
half  soaked  in  corn  whisky,  sits  by  the  open 
door,  ear  on  the  conversation,  eye  on  the  not- 
over-distant  woods.  If  the  worthless  Robards 
will  not  work,  at  least  he  may  maintain  a  half- 
bright  lookout  for  murderous  Indians;  and  he 
does. 

The  widow  Donelson  glances  across  from  the 
corn  bread  she  is  mixing. 

"  The  runner  who  came  on  ahead,"  she  says, 
addressing  the  blooming  Rachel,  "  reports  the 
party  as  being  due  to-morrow.  Mr.  Jackson, 
the  new  State's  Attorney,  who  will  come  with  it, 
is  to  board  and  lodge  with  us." 

The  blooming  Rachel  looks  brightly  up. 
The  drunken  Robards  likewise  looks  up ;  but  his 
face  is  gloomy  with  incipient  jealousy. 

*' A.  Mr.  Jackson,  eh?"  he  sneers.  Then, 
to  the  blooming  Rachel:   "It's  mighty  likely 

26 


THE     BLOOMING     RACHEL 

you'll  find  In  him  a  new  lover  to  try  your  wiles 


on. 


The  blooming  Rachel  colors  and  her  black 
eyes  snap,  but  she  holds  her  tongue.  The  widow 
Donelson  Is  also  silent.  The  mother  and  daugh- 
ter have  found  wordlessness  the  best  return  to 
those  Insults,  which  It  Is  the  habit  of  the  jealous 
drunkard  to  hurl  at  his  pretty  wife. 

The  runner  made  true  report,  and  the  party 
in  which  travels  the  horse-faced  Andy  makes  Its 
appearance  next  day.  Tall,  slender,  elegant, 
self-possessed,  and  with  a  manner  which  marks 
him  above  the  common,  he  Is  disliked  by  the 
drunken  Robards  on  sight.  When  he  declines 
to  drink  with  that  sot,  the  dislike  crystallizes  Into 
hatred.  The  outrageous  jealousy  of  Robards 
has  found  a  new  reason  for  Its  green-eyed  ex- 
istence, and  he  already  goes  drunkenly  ponder- 
ing the  slaughter  of  the  horse-faced  Andy. 
Since  he  will  never  advance  beyond  the  pond- 
ering stage,  for  certain  reasons  called  "  craven  " 
among  men  of  clean  courage,  his  homicidal  lucu- 
brations are  the  less  Important. 

Andy  the  horse-faced  does  not  notice  Rob- 
ards. He  does,  however,  notice  with  a  thrill 
of  pleasure  the  beautiful  Rachel,  and  Is  glad  to 
find  his  lines  are  down  In  such  pleasant  places. 

27 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

He  Is  vastly  taken  with  the  boarding  house  of 
the  widow  Donelson,  and  Incautiously  says  as 
much.  He  praises  her  corn  pone  and  fried 
squirrel,  and  vehemently  avers  that  her  hog  and 
hominy  are  the  best  he  ever  ate. 

Rachel  the  blooming  does  not  allow  her  hus- 
band's jealousy  to  Interrupt  hospitality,  and  piles 
high  the  young  State's  Attorney's  plate  with 
these  delicacies.  She  even  brings  out  a  store  of 
wild  honey  and  cream — dainties  sparse  and  few 
and  far  between  In  these  rude  regions.  She 
calls  this  ''  hospitality  "  ;  her  jealous  drunkard 
of  a  husband  calls  It  '^  making  advances."  He 
says  that  In  the  course  of  a  long,  and  he  might 
have  added  misspent,  life,  he  has  observed  that 
a  coquette,  with  designs  on  a  man's  heart,  never 
falls  to  begin  by  making  an  ally  of  his  stomach. 

"  Hence,"  says  the  drunken  deductlonist, 
"  that  honey  and  cream." 

That  night,  after  Rachel  the  blooming  and 
her  drunken  husband  retire,  a  bitter  quarrel 
breaks  out  between  them.  It  rages  with  such 
fury  that  the  bicker  arouses  one  Overton,  who 
occupies  the  adjoining  chamber.  Mr.  Overton 
is  a  severe  character,  firm  and  clear  as  to  his 
rights.  He  objects  to  having  his  rest  disturbed, 
alleging  that  he  has  troubles  of  his  own.     Tak- 

28 


THE     BLOOMING     RACHEL 

ing  final  offense  at  the  language  of  the  brute 
Robards,  which  is  more  emphatic  than  nice,  he 
gets  his  pistols.  Rapping  on  the  intervening 
wall  to  invoke  attention,  he  informs  that  vitu- 
perative drunkard  of  his  intention  to  instantly 
put  him  (Robards)  to  death,  should  he  so  much 
as  raise  his  voice  above  a  whisper  for  the  balance 
of  the  night. 

Rachel  seeks  her  mother,  and  the  jealous 
drunkard  quiets  down.  He  is  not  unacquainted 
with  Mr.  Overton,  who  is  reputed  to  possess  as 
restless  a  brace  of  hair  triggers  as  ever  owned 
flint  and  pan.  Altogether  he  is  precisely  the 
one  whose  word  would  carry  weight  with  such 
as  Robards,  and,  on  the  back  of  his  interference 
in  the  domestic  affairs  of  that  inebriate,  a  great 
peace  settles  upon  the  blockhouse  of  the  widow 
Donelson  which  abides  throughout  the  night. 

As  for  the  horse-faced  State's  Attorney,  he 
knows  nothing  of  the  differences  between  Ra- 
chel and  the  jealous  Robards.  He  does  not 
sleep  in  the  blockhouse,  having  been  appointed 
to  a  blanket  couch  in  the  "  Bunk  House,"  a 
separate  dormitory  structure  which  stands  at  a 
little  distance. 

During  breakfast,  the  blooming  Rachel  again 
freights   daintily  deep  the  plate  of  the  young 

29 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

State's  Attorney.  Thereupon  the  favored  one 
beams  his  thanks,  while  behind  his  back  as 
though  to  soothe  his  hate,  the  malevolent  Rob- 
ards  sits  cleaning  a  rifle,  casting  upon  him  the 
while  an  occasional  midnight  look.  Just  across 
Is  the  taciturn  Overton,  proprietor  of  those  rest- 
less hair  triggers,  wondering  over  his  bacon  and 
eggs  where  this  drama  of  love  and  threatened 
murder  is  to  end. 


IV 

COLONEL    WAIGHTSTILL 
AVERY    OFFENDS 


CHAPTER    IV 

COLONEL   WAIGHTSTILL   AVERY   OFFENDS 

NOW,  when  the  horse-faced  Andy  finds 
himself  in  the  Cumberland  country, 
he  begins  to  look  about  him.  Be- 
ing a  lawyer,  his  Instinct  leads  him  to  consider 
those  opposing  ranks  of  commerce,  the  debtor 
and  creditor  classes.  He  finds  the  former  com- 
posed of  persons  of  the  highest  honor.  Also, 
their  honor  Is  sensitive  and  easily  touched,  be- 
ing sensitive  and  touchy  in  proportion  as  the 
bulk  of  their  debts  is  increased.  The  debtor 
class,  as  the  same  finds  representation  about  those 
two  Cumberland  forums,  Nashville  and  Jones- 
boro,  holds  it  to  be  the  privilege  of  every  gen- 
tleman, when  dunned,  to  challenge  and  if  prac- 
ticable kill  his  creditor  honorably  at  ten  paces. 
So  firm  indeed  is  the  debtor  class  in  this  be- 
lief, that  the  creditor  class,  less  warlike  and  with 
more  to  lose,  seldom  presents  a  bill.  Neither 
does   it  refuse  the   opposition   credit;   for  the 

33 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

debtor  class  also  clings  to  the  no  less  formidable 
theory,  that  to  refuse  credit  Is  an  Insult  quite  as 
stinging  as  a  dun  direct. 

In  short,  the  horse-faced  Andy  discovers  the 
region  to  be  a  very  Arcadia  for  debtors.  Their 
credit  Is  without  a  limit  and  their  debts  are  never 
due.  He  resolves  to  disturb  these  commercial 
Arcadians;  he  will  break  upon  them  as  a  Satan 
of  solvency  come  to  trouble  their  debt  paradise. 

The  horse-faced  Andy,  as  has  been  noted.  Is 
Scotch-Irish.  Being  Irish,  his  honor  Is  as  sen- 
sitive and  his  soul  as  warlike  as  are  those  of  the 
most  debt-eaten  Individual  along  the  Cumber- 
land. Being  Scotch,  he  believes  debts  should 
be  paid,  and  holds  that  a  creditor  may  ask  for 
his  money  without  forfeiting  life.  He  urges 
these  views  in  tavern  and  street;  and  there- 
upon the  creditors,  taking  heart,  come  to  him 
with  their  claims.  He  accepts  the  trusts  thus 
proffered;  as  a  corollary,  having  now  flown  In 
the  face  of  the  militant  debtor  class,  he  Is  soon 
to  prove  his  manhood. 

The  horse-faced  Andy  files  a  declaration  for 
a  client,  on  a  mixed  claim  based  upon  bacon, 
/  molasses  and  rum.     The  defendant,  a  person- 

age yclept  Irad  Miller,  genus  debtor,  species 
keel  boatman,  is  a  very  patrician  among  bank- 

34 


COLONEL  AVERY  OFFENDS 

rupts,  boasting  that  he  owes  more  and  pays  less 
than  any  man  south  of  the  Ohio  river.  Also, 
having  been  already  offended  by  the  foppish 
frivolity  of  that  ruffled  shirt  and  grass-green 
surtout,  he  is  outraged  now,  when  the  ruffled 
grass-green  one  brings  suit  against  him. 

Breathing  fire  and  smoke,  the  insulted  Irad 
lowers  his  horns,  and  starts  for  the  horse-faced 
Andy.  His  methods  at  this  crisis  are  character- 
istic of  the  Cumberland;  he  merely  grinds  the 
horse-faced  Andy's  polished  boot  beneath  his 
heel,  mentioning  casually  the  w^hile  that  he  him- 
self is  "  half  boss,  half  alligator,"  and  can  drink 
the  Cumberland  dry  at  a  draught. 

This  is  fighting  talk,  and  the  horse-faced 
Andy  so  accepts  it.  He  surveys  the  truculent 
Irad  with  the  cautious  tail  of  his  eye,  and  finds 
him  discouragingly  tall  and  broad  and  thick. 
The  survey  takes  time,  but  the  injured  Irad  pre- 
vents It  being  wasted  by  again  grinding  the  pol- 
ished toes. 

Andy  the  strategic  suddenly  seizes  a  rail  from 
the  nearby  fence,  and  charges  the  indebted  one. 
The  end  of  the  rail  strikes  that  insolvent  in  what 
is  vulgarly  known  as  the  pit  of  the  stomach,  and 
doubles  him  up  like  a  two-foot  rule.  At  that, 
he  who  is  "  half  boss,  half  alligator,"  gives 

35 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

forth  a  screech  of  which  an  injured  wild  cat 
might  be  proud,  and  perceiving  the  rail  poised 
for  a  second  charge  makes  off.  This  small  ad- 
venture gives  the  horse-faced  Andy  station,  and 
an  avalanche  of  claims  pours  in  upon  him. 

Having  established  himself  in  the  confidence 
of  common  men,  it  still  remains  with  our  horse- 
faced  hero  to  conquer  the  esteem  of  the  bar. 
The  opportunity  is  not  a  day  behind  his  collision 
with  that  violent  one  of  equine-alligator  genesis. 
In  good  sooth,  it  is  an  offshoot  thereof. 

The  bruised  Irad's  case  is  up  for  trial.  His 
counsel.  Colonel  Waightstill  Avery,  hails  from 
a  hamlet,  called  Morganton,  on  the  thither  side 
of  the  Blue  Ridge.  Colonel  Waightstill  is  of 
middle  age,  pompous  and  high,  and  the  youth 
of  Andy — slim,  lean,  eager,  horse  face  as  hair- 
less as  an  egg — offends  him. 

"  Your  honor,"  cries  Colonel  Waightstill, 
addressing  the  bench,  "  who,  pray,  is  the  oppos- 
ing counsel?"  The  boyish  Andy  stands  up. 
"  Must  I,  your  honor,"  continues  the  outraged 
Colonel  Waightstill,  "  must  I  cross  forensic 
blades  with  a  child?  Have  I  journeyed  all  the 
long  mountain  miles  from  Morganton  to  try 
cases  with  babes  and  sucklings?  Or  perhaps, 
your  honor  " — here  Colonel  Waightstill  waxes 

36 


COLONEL  AVERY  OFFENDS 

sarcastic — "  I  have  mistaken  the  place.     Pos- 
sibly this  is  not  a  court,  but  a  nursery." 

Colonel  Waightstill  sits  down,  and  the  horse- 
faced  Andy,  on  the  leaf  of  a  law  book,  indites 
the  following: 

August  12,  1788. 
Sir:  When  a  man's  feelings  and  charector 
are  injured  he  ought  to  seek  speedy  redress. 
My  charector  you  have  injured;  and  further  you 
have  Insulted  me  in  the  presunce  of  a  court  and 
a  large  aujence.  I  therefore  call  upon  you  as  a 
gentleman  to  give  me  satisfaction  for  the  same ; 
I  further  call  upon  you  to  give  me  an  answer 
immediately  without  Equivocation  and  I  hope 
you  can  do  without  dinner  until  the  business  is 
done;  for  it  is, consistent  with  the  character  of 
a  gentleman  when  he  injures  a  man  to  make 
speedy  reparation;  therefore  I  hope  you  will 
not  fail  in  meeting  me  this  day. 

From  yr  Hbl  st., 

Andw  Jackson. 

The  horse-faced  one  spells  badly;  but  Marl- 
borough did,  Washington  does  and  Napoleon 
will  spell  worse.  It  is  a  notable  fact  that  con- 
quering militant  souls  have  ever  been  better  with 
the  sword  than  with  the  spelling  book. 

The  judge  is  a  gentleman  of  quick  and  ap- 
prehensive   eye,    as    frontier   jurists    must    be. 

37 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

Also,  he  Is  of  finest  sensibilities,  and  can  appre- 
ciate the  feelings  of  a  man  of  honor.  He  sees 
the  note  shoved  across  to  Colonel  Walghtstill 
by  the  horse-faced  Andy,  and  at  once  orders  a 
recess.  The  judge,  with  delicate  tact,  says  the 
Cumberland  bottoms  are  heavy  with  the  seeds 
of  fever,  and  that  it  is  his  practice  to  consume 
prudent  rum  and  quinine  at  this  hour. 

While  the  judge  goes  for  his  rum  and  quinine, 
Colonel  Walghtstill  and  the  horse-faced  Andy 
repair  to  a  convenient  ravine  at  the  rear  of  the 
log  courthouse.  A  brother  practitioner  attends 
upon  Colonel  Walghtstill,  while  the  Interests  of 
the  horse-faced  Andy  are  conserved  by  Mr. 
Overton,  who  espouses  his  cause  as  a  fellow 
boarder  at  the  widow  Donelson's.  Mr.  Overton 
has  with  him  his  invaluable  hair  triggers;  and, 
since  he  wins  the  choice,  presents  them  politely, 
butt  first,  to  the  second  of  Colonel  Walghtstill, 
who  selects  one  for  his  principal.  The  ground 
Is  measured  and  pegged;  the  fight  will  be  at  ten 
paces. 

As  Mr.  Overton  gives  the  horse-faced  Andy 
his  weapon,  he  asks: 

"  What  can  you  do  at  this  distance?  " 

"  Snuff  a  candle.'* 

"Good!     Let  me  offer  a  word  of  advice: 

38 


COLONEL  AVERY  OFFENDS 

Don't  kill;  don't  even  wound.  The  casus  belli 
does  not  justify  it,  and  you  can  establish  your 
credit  without.  Should  your  adversary  require 
a  second  shot,  it  will  then  be  the  other  way.  His 
failure  to  apologize,  coupled  with  a  demand  for 
another  shot,  should  mean  his  death  warrant.'* 

The  horse-faced  Andy  approves  this  counsel. 
And  yet,  if  he  must  not  wound  he  may  warn, 
and  to  that  admonitory  end  sends  his  ounce  of 
lead  so  as  to  all  but  brush  the  ear  of  Colonel 
Waightstill.  That  gentleman's  bullet  flies  safely 
wild.  After  the  exchange  of  shots,  the  seconds 
hold  a  consultation.  Mr.  Overton  says  that  his 
principal  must  receive  an  apology,  or  the  duel 
shall  proceed. 

Colonel  Walghtstlll's  second  talks  with  that 
gentleman,  and  finds  him  much  softened  as  to 
mood.  The  flying  lead,  brushing  his  ear  like 
the  wing  of  a  death  angel,  has  set  him  thinking. 
He  now  distrusts  that  simile  of  "  babes  and  suck- 
lings," and  is  even  ready  to  concede  the  Intima- 
tion that  the  horse-faced  Andy  Is  a  child  to  be 
far-fetched.  Indeed,  he  has  conceived  a  vast 
respect,  almost  an  affection,  for  his  youthful 
adversary,  and  will  not  only  apologize,  but  de- 
clares that,  for  purposes  of  litigation,  he  shall 
hereafter  regard  the  horse-faced  Andy  as  a  being 

4  39 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

of  mature  years.  All  this  says  Colonel  Walght- 
still,  under  the  respectful  spell  of  that  flying 
lead;  and  if  not  in  these  phrases,  then  in  words 
to  the  same  effect. 

The  horse-faced  Andy  shakes  hands  with 
Colonel  Waightstill,  and  they  return  to  the  log 
courthouse,  where  the  rum-and-qulnlne  jurist 
is  pleasantly  awaiting  them.  The  trial  is  again 
called,  and  the  horse-faced  Andy  secures  a  ver- 
dict. What  is  of  more  consequence,  he  secures 
the  respect  of  bench  and  bar;  hereafter  no 
one  will  so  much  as  dream  of  disputing  his  word, 
should  he  lay  claim  to  the  years  of  Methuselah. 
That  careful  grazing  shot  at  Colonel  Waight- 
still, ages  the  horse-faced  Andy  wondrously  in 
Cumberland  estimation. 

Good  fortune  is  not  yet  done  with  Andy  of 
the  horse  face.  Within  hours  after  the  meeting 
in  that  convenient  ravine,  he  is  given  new  oppor- 
tunity to  fix  himself  in  the  good  regard  of  folk. 

It  is  on  the  verge  of  midnight.  A  gentle- 
man, unsteady  with  his  cups,  seeks  temporary 
repose  on  the  grassy  litter  which  surrounds  the 
tavern  haystack.  Being  comfortable,  and  safe 
against  a  fall,  he  of  the  too  many  cups  refreshes 
himself  with  his  pipe.  Pipe  going,  he  falls  into 
thought;   and  next,   In   the  midst  of   his  pre- 

40 


COLONEL  AVERY  OFFENDS 

occupation,  he  sets  the  hay  afire.  It  burns  like 
tinder,  and  the  flames,  wind-flaunted,  catch  the 
thatched  roof  of  the  stable. 

The  settlement  is  threatened;  the  wild  cry  of 
"  Fire!  "  is  raised;  from  tavern  and  dwelling, 
men,  women  and  children  come  trooping  forth, 
clad  in  little  besides  looks  of  terror.  The  scene 
is  one  of  confusion  and  misdirection;  no  one 
knows  what  to  do.  Meanwhile,  the  flames  leap 
from  the  stable  to  the  tavern  itself. 

It  is  Andy  the  horse-faced  who  brings  order 
out  of  chaos.  Born  for  leadership,  command 
comes  easy  to  him.  He  calls  for  buckets,  and 
with  military  quickness  forms  a  double  line  of 
men  between  the  river  and  the  flames.  The  full 
buckets  chase  each  other  along  one  line,  while 
the  empties  are  returned  by  the  second  to  be  re- 
filled. When  the  lines  are  working  in  watery 
concord,  he  organizes  the  balance  of  the  com- 
munity into  a  wet-blanket  force.  By  his  orders, 
coverlets,  tablecloths,  blankets,  anything,  every- 
thing that  will  serve,  are  dipped  in  the  river 
and  spread  on  exposed  roofs.  In  an  encourag- 
ingly short  space,  the  fire  is  checked  and  the 
settlement  saved. 

While  the  excitement  is  at  its  height,  that  pipe 
Incendiary,  who  started  the  conflagration,  breaks 

41 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

through  the  double  line  of  water  passers,  and 
begins  to  give  orders.  He  Is  as  wild  as  was 
Nero  at  the  burning  of  Rome.  Finding  this 
person  disturbing  the  effective  march  of  events, 
the  horse-faced  Andy — who  Is  nothing  if  not 
executive — knocks  him  down  with  a  bucket. 
The  Cumberland  Nero  falls  into  the  river,  and 
the  ducking,  acting  in  happy  conjunction  with 
the  stunning  thump,  brings  him  to  the  shore 
a  changed  and  sobered  man.  That  bucket 
promptitude,  wherewith  he  deposed  Nero,  be- 
comes one  of  those  several  immediate  argu- 
ments which  make  mightily  for  the  communal 
advancement  of  Andy  the  horse-faced. 


y. 

THE    WINNING    OF    A    WIFE 


CHAPTER    V 

THE    WINNING   OF   A   WIFE 

ALL  these  energetic  matters  happen  at 
Jonesboro,  where  the  horse-faced  one, 
In  the  interests  of  the  creditor  class 
aforesaid,  is  dancing  attendance  upon  the  court. 
The  fame  of  them  travels  to  Nashville  in  ad- 
vance of  his  return,  and  works  a  respectful 
change  toward  him  in  the  attitude  of  the  public. 
Hereafter  he  is  to  be  called  "Andrew  "  by  ones 
who  know  him  well;  while  others,  less  ac- 
quainted, will  on  military  occasions  hail  him  as 
"  Cap'n  "  and  on  civil  ones  as  "  Square."  On 
every  hand,  reference  to  him  as  "  horse-faced  " 
is  to  be  dropped;  wherefore  this  history,  the 
effort  of  which  is  to  follow  close  in  the  wake 
of  the  actual,  will  from  this  point  profit  by  that 
polite  example. 

The  household  at  the  widow  Donelson's 
learns  of  the  Jonesboro  valor  and  executive 
promptitude  of  the  young  State's  Attorney. 
The     blooming     Rachel     rejoices,     while     her 

45 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

drunken  spouse  turns  sullen.  His  jealousy  of 
Andrew  Is  multiplied,  as  that  young  gentleman's 
fame  Increases.  The  fame,  however,  Is  of  a  sort 
that  seriously  misllkes  the  drunken  Kobards, 
who  Is  at  heart  a  hare.  Wherefore,  while  his 
jealousy  grows,  he  no  longer  makes  it  the  tavern 
talk,  as  was  his  sottish  wont. 

Affairs  run  briskly  prosperous  with  Andrew, 
and  he  finds  himself  engaged  In  half  the  litiga- 
tion of  the  Cumberland.  There  is  little  money, 
but  the  region  owns  a  currency  of  Its  own.  Some 
wise  man  has  said  that  the  circulating  medium 
of  Europe  is  gold,  of  Africa  men,  of  Asia 
women,  of  America  land.  The  clients  of  An- 
drew reward  his  labors  with  land,  and  many  a 
"  six-forty,"  by  which  the  slang  of  the  Cumber- 
land identifies  a  section  of  land,  becomes  his. 
Finally  he  owns  such  an  array  of  wilderness 
square  miles,  polka-dotted  about  between  the 
Cumberland  and  the  Mississippi,  that  the  aggre- 
gate acreage  swells  into  the  thousands.  Those 
acres,  however,  are  hardly  more  valuable  than 
are  the  brown  leaves  wherewith  each  autumn 
carpets  them. 

While  the  ardent  Andrew  is  pushing  his  way 
at  the  bar,  and  accumulating  "  six-forties,"  he 
continues  to  board  at  the  widow  Donelson's. 

46 


I   luJ        li     ,).J"."niH.  '.'"  jg 


Mrs.  Rachel  Jackson 


THE     WINNING    OF    A    WIFE 

The  blooming  Rachel  delights  In  his  society — 
so  polished,  so  splendidly  different  from  that  of 
the  drunkard  Robards !  Once  or  twice,  too, 
when  Andrew,  In  his  saddlebag  excursions  from 
court  to  court,  has  a  powder-burning  brush  with 
Indians  and  saves  his  sandy  scalp  by  a  narrow- 
ish  margin,  the  red  cheek  of  Rachel  is  seen  to 
whiten.  That  is  to  say,  the  drunkard  Robards 
sees  It  whiten;  the  purblind  Andrew  never  once 
observes  that  mark  of  tender  concern.  The 
pistol  repute  of  the  decisive  Andrew  serves  when 
he  is  by  to  stifle  remark  on  the  Up  of  the  re- 
creant Robards.  But  there  come  hours  when 
the  latter  has  the  blooming  Rachel  to  himself, 
at  which  time  he  raves  like  one  demon-pos- 
sessed. He  avers  that  the  unconscious  Andrew 
is  the  lover  of  the  blooming  Rachel,  and  in 
so  doing  lies  like  an  Ananias.  However,  the 
drunken  one  has  the  excuse  of  jealousy;  which 
emotion  is  not  only  green-eyed  but  cross-eyed, 
and  of  all  things — as  history  shows — most  apt 
to  mislead  the  accurate  vision  of  folk. 

Andrew  overflows  of  sentiment,  and  often  in 
moments  of  loneliness  turns  homesick.  This  is 
the  more  marvelous,  since  never  from  his  very 
cradle  days  has  he  had  a  home.  Being  homesick 
— one  may  as  well  call  it  that,  for  want  of  a 

47 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

better  word — he  goes  out  to  the  orchard  fence, 
a  lonely  spot,  cut  off  from  view  by  intercepting 
bushes,  and  devotes  himself  to  melancholy. 
This  melancholy,  as  often  happens  with  high- 
strung,  vanity-bitten  young  gentlemen,  is  for  the 
greater  part  nothing  more  than  the  fomenta- 
tions of  his  egotism  and  conceit.  But  Andrew 
does  not  know  this  truth,  and  wears  a  fine  tragic 
air  as  one  beset  of  what  poets  term  ''  a  name- 
less grief." 

One  day  the  blooming  Rachel  discovers  the 
melancholy  Andrew,  dreamily  mournful  by  the 
orchard  fence.  She  watches  him  unperceived, 
and  her  gentle  bosom  yearns  over  him.  The 
blooming  Rachel  is  not  wanting  in  that  taint  of 
romanticism  to  which  all  border  folk  are  born; 
and  now,  to  see  this  Hector! — this  lion  among 
men ! — so  bent  in  sadness,  moves  her  tenderly. 
At  that  it  is  only  a  kind  of  maternal  tenderness ; 
for  the  blooming  Rachel  has  a  wealth  of 
mother  love,  and  no  children  upon  whom  to 
lavish  it.  She  stands  looking  at  the  melancholy 
one,  and  would  give  worlds  if  she  might  only 
take  his  head  to  her  sympathetic  bosom  and 
cherish  It. 

The  blooming  Rachel  approaches,  and  cheer- 
ily greets  the  gloomy  one.     She  seeks  to  uplift 

48 


THE     WINNING    OF    A    WIFE 

his  spirits.  Under  the  sweet  spell  of  her,  he 
tells  how  wholly  alone  he  is.  He  speaks  of  his 
mother  and  how  her  very  grave  is  lost.  He 
relates  how  the  Revolution  swallowed  up  the 
lives  of  his  two  brothers. 

*'And  your  father?" 

'*  He  was  buried  the  week  before  I  was  born." 

The  two  stay  by  the  orchard  fence  a  long 
while,  and  talk  on  many  things;  but  never  once 
on  love. 

The  drunken  Robards,  fiend-guided,  gets  a 
green-eyed  glimpse  of  them.  With  that  his 
jealousy  receives  added  edge,  and — the  better 
to  decide  upon  a  course — he  hurries  to  a  grog- 
gery  to  pour  down  rum  by  the  cup.  Either  he 
drinks  beyond  his  wont,  or  that  rum  is  of  sterner 
impulse  than  common;  for  he  becomes  pot- 
valorous,  and  with  curses  vows  the  death  of 
Andrew. 

The  drunken  Robards,  filled  with  rum  to  the 
brim,  issues  forth  to  execute  his  threats.  He 
finds  his  victim  still  sadly  by  the  orchard  fence; 
but  alone,  since  the  blooming  Rachel  has  been 
called  to  aid  in  supper-getting.  The  pot-valor- 
ous Robards  bursts  into  a  torrent  of  jealous 
recrimination. 

The  melancholy  Andrew  cannot  believe  his 

49 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

ears!  His  melancholy  takes  flight  when  he 
does  understand,  and  In  its  stead  comes  white- 
hot  anger. 

"What I  you  scoundrel!"  he  roars.  The 
blue  eyes  blaze  with  such  ferocity  that  Robards 
the  craven  starts  back.  In  a  moment  the  other 
has  control  of  himself.  "  Sir!  "  he  grits,  ''  you 
shall  give  me  satisfaction!  " 

Robards  the  drunken  says  nothing,  being 
frozen  of  fear.  The  enraged  Andrew  stalks 
away  In  quest  of  the  taciturn  Overton  who  owns 
those  hair  triggers. 

"  Let  us  take  a  walk,"  says  hair-trigger  Over- 
ton, running  his  arm  Inside  the  lean  elbow  of 
Andrew.  Once  In  the  woods,  he  goes  on: 
*'  What  do  you  want  to  do?  " 

*'  Kill  him !  I  would  put  him  in  hell  in  a 
second!  " 

"  Doubtless !  Having  killed  him,  what  then 
will  you  do?  " 

"  I  don't  understand." 

"  Let  me  explain :  You  kill  Robards.  His 
wife  Is  a  widow.  Also,  because  you  have  killed 
Robards  In  a  quarrel  over  her,  she  Is  the  talk  of 
the  settlement.  Therefore,  I  put  the  question : 
Having  made  Rachel  the  scandal  of  the  Cum- 
berland, what  will  you  do?  " 

50 


THE     WINNING    OF    A    WIFE 

There  Is  a  long,  embarrassed  pause.  Pres- 
ently Andrew  lifts  his  gaze  to  the  cool  eyes  of 
his  friend. 

"  I  shall  offer  her  marriage.  She  shall,  If 
she  accept  It,  have  the  protection  of  my 
name." 

"  And  then,"  goes  on  the  Ice-and-Iron  Over- 
ton, "  the  scandal  will  be  redoubled.  They  will 
say  that  you  and  Rachel,  plotting  together,  have 
murdered  Robards  to  open  a  wider  way  for  your 
guilty  loves." 

Andrew  takes  a  deep  breath.  '*  What  would 
you  counsel?  "  he  asks. 

*'  One  thing," — laying  his  hand  on  Andrew's 
shoulder — "  under  no  circumstances,  not  even 
to  save  your  own  life,  must  you  slay  Robards. 
You  might  better  slay  Rachel;  since  his  death 
by  your  hand  spells  her  destruction.  Good 
people  would  avoid  her  as  though  she  were  the 
plague.  Never  more,  on  the  Cumberland, 
should  she  hold  up  her  head." 

That  night  the  fear-eaten  Robards  solves  the 
situation  which  his  crazy  jealousy  has  created. 
He  starts  secretly  for  the  North.  He  tells  two 
or  three  that  he  will  never  more  call  the  bloom- 
ing Rachel  wife. 

For  a  month  there  Is  much  silence,  and  some 

51 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

restraint,  at  the  widow  Donelson's.  This  con- 
dition wears  away;  and,  while  no  one  says  so, 
everybody  feels  relaxed  and  relieved  by  the  ab- 
sence of  the  drunken  Robards.  No  one  names 
him,  and  there  is  tacit  agreement  to  forget  the 
creature.  The  drunken  Robards,  however,  has 
no  notion  of  being  forgotten.  Word  comes 
down  from  above  that  he  will  return  and  reclaim 
his  wife.  At  this  the  black  eyes  of  Rachel 
sparkle  dangerously. 

"  That  monster,"  she  cries,  "  shall  never 
kiss  my  lips,  nor  so  much  as  touch  my  hand 
agam ! 

By  advice  of  her  mother,  and  to  avoid  the 
drunken  Robards — who  promises  his  hateful  ap- 
pearance with  each  new  day — the  blooming 
Rachel  resolves  to  take  passage  on  a  keel  boat 
for  Natchez.  Andrew,  in  deep  concern,  de- 
clares that  he  shall  accompany  her.  He  says 
that  he  goes  to  protect  her  from  those  Indians 
who  make  a  double  fringe  of  savage  peril  along 
the  Cumberland,  the  Ohio,  and  the  Mississippi. 
Overton,  the  taciturn,  shrugs  his  shoulders;  the 
keel-boat  captain  is  glad  to  have  with  him  the 
steadiest  rifle  along  the  Cumberland,  and  says 
as  much;  the  blooming  Rachel  is  glad,  but  says 
so  only  with  her  eyes;  the  Nashville  good  people 

52 


THE     WINNING     OF     A    WIFE 

say  nothing,  winking  In  silence  sophisticated 
eyes. 

Robards  the  drunken,  now  when  they  are 
gone,  plays  the  Ill-used  husband  to  the  hilts. 
He  seems  to  revel  In  the  role,  and,  to  keep  It 
from  cooling  in  Interest,  petitions  the  Virginia 
Legislature  for  a  divorce.  In  course  of  time 
the  news  climbs  the  mountains,  and  descends 
Into  the  Cumberland,  that  the  divorce  is 
granted;  while  similar  word  floats  down  to  Nat- 
chez with  the  keel  boats. 

The  slow  story  of  the  blooming  Rachel's  re- 
lease reaches  our  two  In  Natchez.  Thereupon 
Andrew  leads  Rachel  the  blooming  before  a 
priest;  and  the  priest  blesses  them,  and  names 
them  man  and  wife.  That  autumn  they  are 
again  at  the  widow  Donelson's;  but  the  bloom- 
ing Rachel,  once  Mrs.  Robards,  Is  now  Mrs. 
Jackson. 

Slander  Is  never  the  vice  of  a  region  that  goes 
armed  to  the  teeth.  Thus  it  befalls  that  now, 
when  the  two  are  back  on  the  Cumberland, 
those  sophisticated  ones  forget  to  wink.  There 
comes  not  so  much  as  the  arching  of  a  brow; 
for  no  one  is  so  careless  of  life  as  all  that.  The 
whole  settlement  can  see  that  the  dangerous  An- 
drew  Is   watching  with   those    steel-blue   eyes. 

53 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

At  the  first  suggestion  that  his  Rachel  has  been 
guilty  of  wrong,  he  will  be  at  the  throat  of  her 
mallgner  like  a  panther. 

Time  flows  on,  and  a  horrible  thing  occurs. 
There  comes  a  new  word  that  no  divorce  was 
granted  by  that  Legislature ;  and  this  new  word 
is  indisputable.  There  is  a  divorce,  one  granted 
by  a  court;  but,  as  an  act  of  separation  between 
Rachel  the  blooming  and  the  drunken  Robards, 
that  decree  of  divorce  is  long  months  younger 
than  the  empowering  act  of  the  Richmond  Leg- 
islature, which  mistaken  folk  regarded  as  a 
divorce.  The  good  priest's  words,  when  he 
named  our  troubled  two  as  man  and  wife, 
were  ignorantly  spoken.  During  months  upon 
months  thereafter,  through  all  of  which  she  was 
hailed  as  *'  Mrs.  Jackson,"  the  blooming  Ra- 
chel was  still  the  wife  of  the  drunken  Robards. 

The  blow  strikes  Andrew  gray;  but  he  says 
never  a  word.  He  blames  himself  for  this  ship- 
wreck; where  his  Rachel  was  involved,  he  should 
have  made  all  sure  and  Invited  no  chances. 

The  Injury  Is  done,  however;  he  must  now  go 
about  Its  repair.  There  Is  a  second  marriage, 
at  which  the  silent  Overton  and  the  widow 
Donelson  are  the  only  witnesses,  and  for  the 
second  time  a  priest  congratulates  our  storm- 

54 


THE     WINNING    OF    A    WIFE 

tossed  ones  as  man  and  wife.  This  time  there 
is  no  mistake. 

The  young  husband  sends  to  Charleston ;  and 
presently  there  come  to  him  over  the  Blue  Ridge, 
the  finest  pair  of  dueling  pistols  which  the  Cum- 
berland has  ever  beheld.  They  are  Galway 
saw-handles,  rifle-barreled;  a  breath  discharges 
them,  and  they  are  sighted  to  the  splitting  of 
a  hair. 

''  What  are  they  for?  "  asks  Overton  the  taci- 
turn, balancing  one  in  each  experienced  hand. 

In  the  eyes  of  Andrew  gathers  that  steel-blue 
look  of  doom.  "  They  are  to  kill  the  first  vil- 
lain who  speaks  ill  of  my  wife,"  says  he. 


VI 

DEAD-SHOT    DICKINSON 


CHAPTER    VI 

DEAD-SHOT   DICKINSON 

THE  sandy-haired  Andrew  now  devotes 
himself  to  the  practice  of  law  and  the 
domestic  virtues.  In  exercising  the 
latter,  he  has  the  aid  of  the  blooming  Rachel, 
toward  whom  he  carries  himself  with  a  tender 
chivalry  that  would  have  graced  a  Bayard. 
Having  little  of  books,  he  is  earnest  for  the  edu- 
cation of  others,  and  becomes  a  trustee  of  the 
Nashville  Academy. 

About  this  time  the  good  people  of  the  Cum- 
berland, and  of  the  regions  round  about,  be- 
lieving they  number  more  than  seventy  thousand 
souls,  are  seized  of  a  hunger  for  statehood. 
They  call  a  constitutional  convention  at  Knox- 
vllle,  and  Andrew  attends  as  a  delegate  from 
his  county  of  Davidson.  Woolsack  McNairy, 
his  fellow  student  in  the  office  of  Spruce  Mc- 
Cay,  is  also  a  delegate.  The  woolsack  one  has 
realized  that  dream  of  old  Salisbury,  and  is  now 
a  judge. 

59 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

Andrew  and  woolsack  McNalry  are  members 
of  the  committee  which  draws  a  constitution  for 
the  would-be  commonwealth.  The  constitution, 
when  framed,  is  brought  by  its  authors  into 
open  convention,  and  wranglingly  adopted. 
Also,  "  Tennessee  "  is  settled  upon  for  a  name, 
albeit  the  ardent  Andrew,  who  is  nothing  if  not 
tribal,  urges  that  of  "  Cumberland." 

The  constitution  goes,  with  the  proposition  of 
statehood,  before  Congress  In  Philadelphia; 
and,  following  a  sharp  fight.  In  which  such  fos- 
silized ones  as  Rufus  King  oppose  and  such 
quick  spirits  as  Aaron  Burr  sustain,  the  admis- 
sion of  "  Tennessee,"  the  new  State  is  created. 

Its  hunting-shirt  citizenry,  well  pleased  with 
their  successful  step  in  nation  building,  elect 
Andrew  to  the  House  of  Representatives.  A 
little  later,  he  Is  taken  from  the  House  and  sent 
to  the  Senate.  There  he  meets  with  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son, who  is  the  Senate's  presiding  officer,  being 
vice-president  of  the  nation,  and  that  accurate 
parliamentarian  and  polished  fine  gentleman 
writes  of  him : 

"  He  never  speaks  on  account  of  the  rash- 
ness of  his  feelings.  I  have  seen  him  attempt 
it  repeatedly,  but  as  often  choke  with  rage." 

There  also  he  encounters  Aaron  Burr;  and 

60 


DEAD-SHOT     DICKINSON 

IS  so  far  socially  sagacious  as  to  model  his  de- 
portment upon  that  of  the  American  Chester- 
field, Ironing  out  Its  backwoods  wrinkles  and 
savage  creases,  until  It  fits  a  salon  as  smoothly 
well  as  does  the  deportment  of  Burr  himself. 
Our  hero  finds  but  one  other  man  about  Con- 
gress for  whom  he  conceives  a  friendship  equal 
to  that  which  he  feels  for  Aaron  Burr,  and  he 
Is  Edward  Livingston. 

Andrew  the  energetic  discovers  the  life  of  a 
senator  to  be  one  of  dawdling  uselessness,  over- 
long  drawn  out;  and  says  so.  He  anticipates 
the  acrid  Randolph  of  Roanoke,  and  declares 
that  he  never  winds  his  watch  while  In  Congress, 
holding  all  time  spent  there  as  wasted  and 
thrown  away. 

Idleness  rusts  him;  and,  being  of  a  temper 
even  with  that  of  best  Toledo  steel,  he  refuses 
to  rust  patiently.  Preyed  upon  and  carked  of 
an  exasperating  leisure,  which  misfits  both  his 
years  and  his  fierce  temperament,  he  seeks  refuge 
In  what  amusements  are  rife  In  Philadelphia. 
He  goes  to  Mr.  McElwee's  Looking-glass 
Store,  70  South  Fourth  Street,  and  pays  four  bits 
for  a  ticket  to  the  readings  of  Mr.  Fennell, 
who  gives  him  Goldsmith,  Thompson  and 
Young.      The    readings   pall   upon    him,    and, 

6i 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

athlrst  for  something  more  violent,  he  clinks 
down  a  Mexican  dollar,  witnesses  the  horse- 
manship at  Mr.  Rickett's  amphitheater,  and 
finds  it  more  to  his  horse-loving  taste.  When  all 
else  fails,  he  buys  a  seat  in  a  box  at  the  Old 
Theater  in  Cedar  Street,  and  is  entertained  by 
the  sleight  of  hand  of  wizard  Signor  Falconi. 
On  the  back  of  it  all  he  grows  heartily  sick  of 
the  Senate,  and  of  civilization,  as  the  latter  finds 
exposition  in  Philadelphia,  and  resigns  his  place 
and  goes  home. 

When  he  arrives  in  Nashville,  the  Legisla- 
ture— which  still  holds  that  he  should  be  en- 
gaged upon  some  public  work — elects  him  to 
the  supreme  bench.  There  he  gets  along  more 
to  his  own  comfort;  for,  besides  being  among 
the  people  he  loves,  he  relieves  the  monotony  of 
existence  by  a  street  fight  with  Governor  John 
Sevier.  The  two  meet  In  the  causeways  of 
Knoxvllle,  empty  their  pistols  at  one  another, 
and  are  both  shamefully  wide. 

The  young  Judge  is  also  called  from  the 
bench  to  arrest  that  celebrated  backwoods  bully 
and  cut-throat,  Russell  Bean,  who  with  a  pistol 
In  one  hand  and  a  knife  In  the  other  is  engaged, 
at  the  moment,  in  challenging  a  reluctant  sheriff 
to  a  free  fight.     The  young  Judge  covers  the 

62 


Aaron  Burr 

From  a  painting  by  J.  Vandyke. 


DEAD-SHOT     DICKINSON 

objectionable  Mr.  Bean  with  those  Galway  saw- 
handles;  and  that  violent  person  surrenders  un- 
conditionally. In  elucidating  his  sudden  tame- 
ness  and  its  causes,  Mr.  Bean  subsequently  ex- 
plains to  a  disgusted  admirer: 

"  I  looks  at  the  Jedge,  an'  I  sees  shoot  in  his 
eye;  an'  thar  warn't  shoot  in  nary  'nother  eye 
in  the  crowd.  So  I  says  to  myse'f,  says  I,  '  Old 
Hoss,  it's  about  time  to  sing  small !  '  An' 
I  does." 

Notwithstanding  those  leaden  exchanges  with 
the  Governor,  and  the  conquest  of  the  discreet 
Mr.  Bean,  our  jurist  finds  the  bench  inexpres- 
sibly tedious.  At  last  he  resigns  from  it,  as  he 
did  from  the  Senate,  and  again  retreats  to  pri- 
vate life. 

Here  his  forethoughtful  Scotch  blood  begins 
to  assert  itself,  and  he  goes  seriously  to  the  mak- 
ing of  money.  With  his  one  hundred  and  fifty 
slaves,  he  tills  his  plantation  as  no  plantation 
on  the  Cumberland  was  ever  tilled  before;  and 
the  cotton  crops  he  "  makes  "  are  at  once  the 
local  boast  and  wonder.  He  starts  an  inland 
shipyard,  and  builds  keel  and  flat  boats  for  the 
river  commerce  with  New  Orleans.  He  opens 
a  store,  sells  everything  from  gunpowder  to 
quinine,  broadcloth  by  the  bolt  to  salt  by  the 

63 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

barrel,  and  takes  his  pay  in  the  heterogeneous 
currency  of  the  region,  whereof  'coon  skins  are 
a  smallest  subsidiary  coin.  Also,  It  Is  now  that 
he  Is  made  Major  General  of  MUItla,  an  honor 
for  which  he  has  privily  panted,  even  as  the 
worn  hart  panteth  for  the  water  brook. 

When  he  Is  a  general,  the  blooming  Rachel 
cuts  and  bastes  and  stitches  a  gorgeous  uniform 
for  her  Bayard,  In  which  labor  of  love  she  ex- 
hausts the  Nashville  supply  of  gold  braid. 
Once  the  new  General  dons  that  effulgent  uni- 
form, which  he  does  upon  the  instant  It  is  com- 
pleted, he  offers  a  spectacle  of  such  brilliancy 
that  the  bedazzled  public  talks  facetiously  of 
smoked  glass.  The  new  General  In  no  wise  re- 
sents this  jest,  being  blandly  tolerant  of  a  back- 
woods sense  of  humor  which  suggests  It.  Be- 
sides, while  the  public  has  its  joke,  he  has  the 
uniform  and  his  commission;  and  these,  he 
opines,  give  him  vastly  the  better  of  the  situa- 
tion. 

Many  friends,  many  foes,  says  the  Arab, 
and  now  the  popular  young  General  finds  his 
path  grown  up  of  enemies.  There  be  reasons 
for  the  sprouting  of  these  malevolent  gentry. 
The  General  Is  the  Idol  of  the  people.  He  can 
call  them  about  him  as  the  huntsman  calls  his 

64 


DEAD-SHOT     DICKINSON 

hounds.  At  word  or  sign  from  him,  they  fol- 
low and  pull  down  whatsoever  man  or  measure 
he  points  to  as  his  quarry  of  politics.  This  does 
not  match  with  the  ambitions  of  many  a  pushing 
gentleman,  who  is  quite  as  eager  for  popular 
preference,  and — he  thinks — quite  as  much  en- 
titled to  itj  as  is  the  General. 

These  disgruntled  ones,  baffled  in  their  politi- 
cal advancement  by  the  General,  take  darkling 
counsel  among  themselves.  The  decision  they 
arrive  at  is  one  gloomy  enough.  They  cannot 
shake  the  General's  hold  upon  the  people. 
Nothing  short  of  his  death  promises  a  least  ray 
of  relief.  He  is  the  sun ;  while  he  lives  he  alone 
will  occupy  the  popular  heavens.  His  destruc- 
tion would  mean  the  going  down  of  that  sun. 
In  the  night  which  followed,  those  lesser  plot- 
ting luminaries  might  win  for  themselves  some 
twinkling  visibility. 

It  is  the  springtime  of  the  malevolent  ones* 
conspiracy,  and  the  plot  they  make  begins  to 
blossom  for  the  bearing  of  its  lethal  fruit. 
There  is  in  Nashville  one  Charles  Dickinson. 
By  profession  he  Is  a  lawyer,  albeit  of  practice 
intermittent  and  scant.  In  figure  he  Is  tall, 
handsome,  graceful  with  a  feline  grace.  If 
there  be  aught  In  the  old  Greek's  theory  touch- 

6s 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

ing  the  transmigration  of  souls,  then  this  Dick- 
inson was  aforetime  and  in  another  life  a  tiger. 
He  is  sinuous,  powerful,  vain,  narrowly  cruel, 
with  a  sleek  purring  gloss  of  manner  over  all. 
Also,  he  is  of  "  good  family" — that  defense  and 
final  refuge  of  folk  who  would  else  sink  from 
respectable  sight  in  the  mire  of  their  own  well- 
earned  disrepute. 

Mr.  Dickinson  has  one  accomplishment,  a 
physical  one.  So  nicely  does  his  eye  match  his 
hand,  that  he  may  boast  himself  the  quickest, 
surest  shot  in  all  the  world.  Knowing  his 
vanity,  and  the  deadly  certainty  of  his  pistols, 
the  conspirators  work  upon  him.  They  point 
out  that  to  kill  the  General  under  circumstances 
which  men  approve,  will  be  an  easy  instant  step 
to  greatness.  Urged  by  his  vanity,  permitted 
by  his  cruelty,  dead-shot  Dickinson  rises  to  the 
glittering  lure. 

Give  a  man  station  and  fortune,  and  while 
his  courage  is  not  sapped  his  prudence  is  pro- 
moted. The  poor,  obscure  man  will  risk  him- 
self more  readily  than  will  the  eminent  rich  one, 
not  that  he  is  braver,  but  he  has  less  to  lose. 
The  General — who  has  been  in  both  Houses  of 
Congress,  and  was  a  judge  on  the  bench  besides 
— will  not  be  hurried  to  the  field,  as  readily  as 

66 


DEAD-SHOT     DICKINSON 

when  he  was  merely  Andrew  the  horse-faced. 
However,  those  malignant  secret  ones  are  In- 
genious. They  know  a  name  that  cannot  fall  to 
set  him  ablaze  for  blood.  They  whisper  that 
name  to  dead-shot  Dickinson. 

It  Is  a  banner  day  at  the  Clover  Bottom  track. 
The  General's  Truxton  Is  to  run — that  meteor 
among  race  horses,  the  mighty  Truxton !  The 
blooming  Rachel,  seated  In  her  carriage,  Is  where 
she  can  view  the  finish.  The  General — one  of 
the  Clover  Bottom  stewards — Is  In  the  judge's 
stand.  Dead-shot  Dickinson,  as  the  bell  rings 
on  the  race,  takes  his  stand  at  the  blooming 
Rachel's  carriage  wheel.  He  Is  not  there  to 
see  a  race,  but  to  plant  an  Insult. 

*'  Go!  "  cries  the  starter. 

Away  rushes  the  field,  the  flying  Truxton  In 
the  lead!  Around  they  whirl,  the  little  jockeys 
plying  hand  and  heel!  They  sweep  by  the 
three-quarters  post!  The  great  Truxton,  eye 
afire,  nostrils  wide,  comes  down  the  stretch  with 
the  swiftness  of  the  thrown  lance!  Behind,  ten 
generous  lengths,  trail  the  beaten  ruck!  The 
red  mounts  to  the  cheek  of  the  blooming  Rachel; 
her  black  eyes  shine  with  excitement!  She  ap- 
plauds the  Invincible  Truxton  with  her  little 
hands. 

67 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

"  He  is  running  away  with  them!  "  she  cries. 

Dead-shot  Dickinson  turns  to  the  friend  who 
is  conveniently  by  his  side.  The  chance  he  waited 
for  has  come. 

"  Running  away  with  them!  "  he  sneers,  re- 
peating the  phrase  of  the  blooming  Rachel. 
"  To  be  sure!  He  takes  after  his  master,  who 
ran  away  with  another  man's  wife." 


VII 
HOW    THE    GENERAL    FOUGHT 


CHAPTER    VII 

HOW   THE    GENERAL    FOUGHT 

THE   General  seeks  the  taciturn  Over- 
ton— that  wordless  one  of  the  uneasy 
hair  triggers. 
*'  It  is  a  plot,"  says  the  General.     *'And  yet 
this  man  shall  die." 

Hair-trigger  Overton  bears  a  challenge  to 
dead-shot  Dickinson,  and  is  referred  to  that 
marksman's  second,  Hanson  Catlet.  Hair-trig- 
ger Overton  and  Mr.  Catlet  agree  on  Harrison's 
Mills,  a  long  day's  ride  away  in  Kentucky. 
There  are  laws  against  dueling  In  Tennessee; 
wherefore  her  citizens,  when  bent  on  blood, 
repair  to  Kentucky.  To  make  all  equal,  and 
owning  similar  laws,  the  Kentuckians,  when 
blood  hungry,  take  one  another  to  Tennessee. 
The  arrangement  Is  both  perfect  and  polite, 
not  to  say  urbane,  and  does  much  to  induce 
friendly  relations  between  these  sister  common- 
wealths. 

6  71 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

Place  selected,  Mr.  Catlet  insists  upon  putting 
off  the  fight  for  a  week.  His  principal  is  noth- 
ing if  not  artistic.  He  must  send  across  the 
Blue  Ridge  Mountains  for  a  famous  brace  of 
pistols.  His  duel  with  the  General  will  have 
its  page  in  history.  He  insists,  therefore,  upon 
making  every  nice  arrangement  to  attract  the 
admiration  of  posterity.  He  will  kill  the  Gen- 
eral, of  course;  and,  by  way  of  emphasizing  his 
gallantry,  offers  wagers  to  that  effect.  He  bets 
three  thousand  dollars  that  he  will  kill  the  Gen- 
eral the  first  fire. 

The  General  makes  no  wagers,  but  holds  long 
pow-wows  with  hair-trigger  Overton  over  their 
glasses  and  pipes.  The  fight  is  to  be  at  twelve 
paces,  each  man  toeing  a  peg.  The  word  agreed 
on  is :  ^'  Fire  —  one  —  two  —  three  —  stop  !  " 
Both  are  free  to  kill  after  the  word  "  Fire," 
and  before  the  word  "  Stop." 

Hair-trigger  Overton  and  the  General  give 
themselves  up  to  a  heartfelt  study  of  what  ad- 
vantages and  disadvantages  are  presented  by  the 
situation.  They  decide  to  let  the  gifted  Dick- 
inson shoot  first.  He  is  so  quick  that  the  Gen- 
eral cannot  hope  to  forestall  his  fire.  Also,  any 
undue  haste  on  the  General's  part  might  spoil 
his  aim.     By  the  pros  and  cons  of  it,  as  weighed 

72 


THE     GENERAL     FOUGHT 

between  them,  it  is  plain  that  the  General  must 
receive  the  fire  of  dead-shot  Dickinson.  He 
will  be  hit;  doubtless  the  wound  w^ill  bring 
death.  He  must,  however,  bend  every  Iron 
energy  to  the  task  of  standing  on  his  feet  long 
enough  to  kill  his  adversary. 

"Fear  not!  Til  last  the  time!''  says  the 
General.  "  He  shall  go  with  me;  for  Tve  set 
my  heart  on  his  blood." 

Those  wonderful  pistols  come  over  the  Blue 
Ridge,  and  dead-shot  Dickinson  with  his  friends 
set  out  for  that  far-away  Kentucky  fighting 
ground.  They  make  gala  of  the  business,  and 
laugh  and  joke  as  they  ride  along.  By  way 
of  keeping  his  hand  in,  and  to  give  the  con- 
fidence of  his  admirers  a  wire  edge,  dead-shot 
Dickinson  unbends  in  sinister  exhibitions  of  his 
pistol  skill.  At  a  farmer's  house  a  gourd  is 
hanging  by  a  string  from  the  bough  of  a  tree. 
Dead-shot  Dickinson,  at  twenty  paces,  cuts  the 
string;  the  gourd  falls  to  the  ground. 

"  Some  gentlemen  will  be  along  presently," 
he  says.  "  Show  them  that  string,  and  tell  them 
how  it  was  cut." 

At  a  wayside  inn  he  puts  four  bullets  into  a 
mark  the  size  of  a  silver  dollar. 

"  When    General   Jackson    arrives,"    he    ob- 

73 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

serves,  tossing  a  gold  piece  to  the  innkeeper, 
"  say  that  those  shots  were  fired  at  twenty-four 
paces." 

And  so  with  song  and  shout  and  jest  and 
pistol  firing,  the  Dickinson  party  troop  forward. 
They  arrive  In  the  early  evening  and  put  up 
at  Harrison's  tavern.  The  fight  Is  for  seven 
o'clock  In  the  morning. 

Behind  this  gay  cavalcade  are  journeying  the 
General  and  hair-trigger  Overton.  The  farmer 
repeats  the  story  of  the  gourd  and  Its  bullet- 
broken  string.  A  bit  farther,  and  the  Innkeeper 
calls  attention  to  that  quartette  of  shots,  which 
took  effect  within  the  little  circumference  of  a 
dollar  piece.  The  stern  pair  behold  these  mar- 
vels unmoved;  hair-trigger  Overton  merely 
shrugs  his  shoulders,  while  the  General's  Up 
curls  contemptuously.  Dead-shot  Dickinson  has 
thrown  away  his  lead  and  powder  If  he  hoped  to 
shake  these  men  of  granite.  Upon  coming  to 
the  battle  ground,  the  General  and  hair-trigger 
Overton  avoid  the  Harrison  tavern,  which  shel- 
ters the  jovial  Dickinson  coterie^  and  put  up  at 
the  Inn  of  David  Miller.  That  evening,  they 
hold  their  final  conference  In  a  cloud  of  tobacco 
smoke,  like  a  couple  of  Indians.  Finally,  the 
General  goes  to  bed,  and  sleeps  like  a  tree. 

74 


THE     GENERAL     FOUGHT 

With  the  first  blue  streaks  of  morning  our 
two  war  parties  are  up  and  moving.  They  meet 
In  a  convenient  grove  of  poplars.  The  ground 
Is  stepped  off  and  pegged;  after  which  hair- 
trigger  Overton  and  Mr.  Catlet  pitch  a  coin. 
The  Impartial  coin  awards  the  choice  of  posi- 
tions to  Mr.  Catlet,  and  gives  the  word  to  hair- 
trigger  Overton.  There  Is  a  third  toss  which 
settles  that  the  weapons  are  to  be  those  Galway 
saw-handles.  At  this  good  fortune  a  steel-blue 
point  of  fire  shows  In  the  satisfied  eye  of  the 
General.  He  recalls  how  he  procured  those 
weapons  to  kill  the  first  man  who  spoke  evil  of 
the  blooming  Rachel,  and  Is  pleased  to  think  a 
benignant  destiny  w^ill  not  permit  them  to  be 
robbed  of  that  original  right. 

The  men  are  led  to  their  respective  pegs  by 
Mr.  Catlet  and  hair-trigger  Overton.  The 
General,  through  the  experienced  strategy  of 
hair-trigger  Overton,  wears  a  black  coat — high 
of  collar,  long  of  skirt.  It  buttons  close  to  the 
chin;  not  a  least  glimpse  of  bullet-guiding  white, 
whether  of  shirt  collar  or  cravat,  Is  allowed  to 
show.  The  black  coat  Is  purposely  voluminous; 
and  the  whereabouts  of  the  General's  lean 
frame,  tucked  away  In  Its  folds.  Is  a  question 
not  readily  replied  to.     The  only  mark  on  the 

75 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

whole  sable  expanse  of  that  coat  is  a  row  of 
steel-bright  buttons.  These  are  not  in  the  mid- 
dle, but  peculiarly  to  one  side.  Those  steel- 
bright  buttons  will  draw  the  fire  of  dead-shot 
Dickinson  like  a  magnet.  Which  is  precisely 
what  hair-trigger  Overton  had  in  mind. 

As  the  two  stand  at  the  pegs,  dead-shot  Dick- 
inson calls  loudly  to  a  friend : 

"  Watch  that  third  button !  It's  over  the 
heart!      I  shall  hit  him  there!  " 

The  grim  General  says  nothing;  but  the  look 
on  his  gaunt  face  reads  like  a  page  torn  from 
some  book  of  doom.  As  he  stands  waiting  the 
word,  he  is  observed  by  the  watchful  Overton 
to  slip  something  into  his  mouth.  Then  his 
jaws  set  themselves  like  flint. 

"  Gentlemen,  are  you  ready?  " 

They  are  ready,  dead-shot  Dickinson  cruelly 
eager,  the  somber  General  adamant.  There  Is 
a  soundless  moment,  still  as  death: 

"Fire!" 

Instantly,  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  the  pistol 
of  dead-shot  Dickinson  explodes.  That  objec- 
tive third  button  disappears,  driven  in  by  the 
vengeful  lead!  The  General  rocks  a  little  on 
his  feet  with  the  awful  shock  of  it;  then  he 
plants  himself  as  moveless  as  an  oak.    Through 

76 


THE     GENERAL     FOUGHT 

the  curling  smoke  dead-shot  Dickinson  makes 
out  the  stark,  upstanding  form.  For  a  moment 
it  is  as  though  he  were  planet-struck.  He 
shrinks  shudderingly  from  his  peg. 

"God!"  he  whispers;  "have  I  missed 
him?" 

Hair-trigger  Overton  cocks  the  pistol  he  holds 
in  his  hand  and  covers  the  horror-smitten 
Dickinson. 

"  Back  to  your  mark,  sir!  "  he  roars. 

Dead-shot  Dickinson  steps  up  to  his  peg,  his 
cheek  the  hue  of  ashes.  He  reads  his  sentence 
in  those  implacable  steel-blue  eyes,  and  the  death 
nearness  touches  his  heart  like  ice. 

"  One!  "  says  hair-trigger  Overton. 

At  the  word,  there  is  a  sharp  "  klick !  "  The 
General  has  pulled  the  trigger,  but  the  hammer 
catches  at  half  cock.  The  General's  inveterate 
steel-blue  glance  never  for  one  moment  leaves 
his  man.  He  recocks  the  weapon  with  a  re- 
sounding "  kluck!  " 

"  Two!  "  says  hair-trigger  Overton. 

"Bang!" 

There  comes  the  flash  and  roar,  and  dead-shot 
Dickinson  is  seen  to  stagger.  He  totters,  stum- 
bles slowly  forward,  and  falls  all  along  on  his 
face.     The  bullet  has  bored  through  his  body. 

77 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

The  General  stays  by  his  peg — cold  and  hard 
and  stern.  Hair-trigger  Overton  approaches 
the  wounded  Dickinson.  One  glance  Is  enough. 
He  crosses  to  the  General  and  takes  his  arm. 

"  Come  !  "  he  says.  *'  There  Is  nothing  more 
to  do!" 

Hair-trigger  Overton  leads  the  General  back 
to  their  Inn.  As  the  pair  journey  through  the 
poplar  woodj  he  asks : 

"  What  was  that  you  put  In  your  mouth?  " 

"It  was  a  bullet,"  returns  the  General;  "I 
placed  It  between  my  teeth.  By  setting  my  jaws 
firmly  upon  it  I  make  my  hand  as  steady  as  a 
church." 

As  the  General  says  this,  he  gives  that  steady- 
ing pellet  of  lead  to  hair-trigger  Overton,  who 
looks  It  over  curiously.  It  has  been  crushed 
between  the  clenched  teeth  of  the  General  until 
now  it  is  as  flat  and  thin  as  a  two-bit  piece.  As 
the  two  approach  the  tavern  they  come  upon 
a  negress  churning  butter,  and  the  General 
pauses  to  drink  a  quart  of  milk. 

Once  in  his  room,  hair-trigger  Overton  pulls 
off  the  General's  boot,  which  is  full  of  blood. 

"  Not  there!  "  says  the  General.  "  His  bul- 
let found  me  here  ";  and  he  throws  open  the 
black  coat. 

78 


THE     GENERAL     FOUGHT 

Dead-shot  Dickinson's  aim  was  better  than 
his  surmise.  He  struck  that  indicated  third 
button;  but,  thanks  to  the  strategy  of  hair- 
trigger  Overton  which  prompted  the  voluminous 
coat,  the  button  did  not  cover  the  General's 
heart.  The  deceived  bullet  has  only  broken 
two  ribs  and  grazed  the  breastbone. 

The  surgeon  Is  called;  the  wound  Is  dressed 
and  bandaged.  He  describes  It  as  serious,  and 
shakes  his  head. 

"  Still,"  he  observes,  "  you  are  more  fortunate 
than  Mr.  Dickinson.     He  cannot  live  an  hour.'* 

As  the  man  of  probe  and  forceps  Is  about  to 
retire  the  General  detains  him. 

"  You  are  not  to  speak  of  my  wound  until 
we  are  back  In  Nashville." 

He  of  the  probe  and  forceps  bows  assent. 
When  he  has  left  the  room  hair-trigger  Over- 
ton asks : 

"What  was  that  for?" 

The  brow  of  the  General  grows  cloudy  with 
a  reminiscent  war  frown. 

*'  Have  you  forgotten  those  four  shots  Inside 
the  circle  of  a  dollar,  and  that  bullet-severed 
string?  I  want  the  braggart  to  die  thinking 
he  has  missed  a  man  at  twelve  paces." 

The  two  light  pipes  and  hair-trigger  Overton 

79 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

sends  for  his  whisky.  Once  it  has  come  he 
gives  the  General  a  stiff  four  fingers,  and  under 
the  fiery  spell  of  the  liquor  the  color  struggles 
Into  the  pale  hollow  of  his  cheek. 

He  of  the  probe  and  forceps  comes  to  the 
door. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  says,  palms  outward  with 
a  sort  of  deprecatory  gesture — "  gentlemen, 
Mr.  Dickinson  is  dead." 

The  General  knocks  the  ashes  from  his  pipe. 
Then  he  crosses  to  the  open  window  and  looks 
out  into  the  May  sunshine.  From  over  near 
the  poplar  wood  drifts  up  the  liquid  whistle  of 
a  quail.  Presently  he  returns  to  his  seat  and 
begins  refilling  his  pipe. 

"  It  speaks  worlds  for  your  will  power,  that 
you  should  have  kept  your'feet  after  being  hit 
so  hard.  Not  one  In  ten  thousand  could  have 
held  himself  together  while  he  made  that  shot !  " 

This  Is  a  marvelous  burst  of  loquacity  for 
hair-trigger  Overton,  who  deals  out  words  as 
some  men  deal  out  ducats. 

"  I  was  thinking  on  her^  whom  his  slanderous 
tongue  had  hurt.  I  should  have  stood  there  till 
I  killed  him,  though  he  had  shot  me  through 
the  heart !  " 


VIII 

ENGLAND   AND    GRIM-VISAGED 

WAR 


CHAPTER    VIII 

ENGLAND   AND   GRIM-VISAGED   WAR 

THE  saw-handles  are  cleaned  and  oiled 
and  laid  away  to  that  repose  which 
they  have  won.  No  more  will  they 
be  summoned  to  defend  the  blooming  Rachel. 
No  one  now  speaks  evil  of  her;  for  that  tragedy 
which  reddened  a  May  Kentucky  morning  has 
sealed  the  lips  of  slander.  The  General  does 
not  speak  of  that  battle  at  twelve  paces  in  the 
poplar  wood;  and  yet  the  blooming  Rachel 
knows.  She,  like  her  lover-husband,  never  re- 
fers to  It;  but  her  worship  of  him  finds  multi- 
plication, while  he,  towards  her,  grows  more  and 
more  the  Bayard.  Much  are  they  revered  and 
looked  up  to  along  the  Cumberland,  he  for  his 
gentle  loyalty,  she  for  her  love ;  and  the  common 
tongue  is  tireless  in  reciting  the  story  of  their 
perfect  happiness. 

The  currents  of  time  roll  on  and  the  General 
is  busy  with  his  planting,  his  storekeeping,  and 

83 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

his  boat  building.  He  is  fortunate;  and  the 
three-sided  profits  pile  themselves  into  moderate 
riches.  In  the  midst  of  his  prosperity  he  is 
visited  by  Aaron  Burr.  The  late  vice-president 
has  killed  Alexander  Hamilton — a  name  de- 
spised along  the  Cumberland.  Also  he  was 
aforetime  the  champion  of  Tennessee,  when  she 
asked  the  boon  of  statehood. 

For  these  sundry  matters,  as  well  as  for  what 
good  unconscious  lessons  in  deportment  were 
taught  him  by  the  courtly  Colonel  Burr,  the 
General  fails  not  to  take  that  polished  exile  to 
his  heart  and  to  his  hearth.  Colonel  Burr  is 
in  and  out  of  Nashville  many  times.  He  comes 
and  goes  and  comes  and  goes  and  comes  again; 
and  writes  his  daughter  Theodosia : 

"  I  am  housed  with  General  Jackson,  who  is 
one  of  those  prompt,  frank,  loyal  souls  whom 
I  like." 

Colonel  Burr  has  been  in  France,  and  tells 
the  General  of  Napoleon.  He  draws  a  battle 
map  of  Quebec,  shows  where  Montgomery 
fell,  and  relates  how  he,  Colonel  Burr,  bore  that 
dead  chieftain  from  the  field.  In  the  end,  he 
gives  a  dim  outline  of  his  dreams  for  the  con- 
quest of  that  Spanish  America,  lying  on  the 
thither  side  of  the  Mississippi ;  and  to  these  lat- 

84 


ENGLAND     AND     WAR 

ter  tales  of  empire  the  General  lends  eager 
ear. 

By  the  General's  suggestion  a  dinner  Is  given 
at  the  Nashville  Inn  In  honor  of  Colonel  Burr. 
The  General  presides,  and,  with  a  heart  full  of 
anger  against  Barbary  pirates,  offers  among 
others  the  toast: 

"  Millions  for  defense,  but  not  one  cent  for 
tribute!  " 

Colonel  Burr,  being  dined,  confides  to  the 
General  how  he  Is  not  without  an  ally  In  the 
Southwest,  and  says  that  Commander  Wilkin- 
son, In  control  for  the  Government  at  New 
Orleans,  stands  ready  to  advance  his  antl-Spanlsh 
projects.  At  the  name  of  "  Wilkinson  "  the 
General  shakes  his  prudent  head.  He  declares 
that  Commander  Wilkinson  Is  a  faithless,  caitiff 
creature,  with  a  brandlfied  nose,  a  coward 
heart,  and  a  weakness  for  breaking  his  word. 
The  crafty  Burr,  confident  to  vanity  of  his  own 
genius  for  Intrigue,  Insists  that  he  can  trust 
Commander  Wilkinson.  Then  he  arranges  with 
the  General  for  the  building  of  a  flotilla  of  flat- 
boats  at  the  latter's  yards,  and  goes  his  schem- 
ing way.  Later,  when  Colonel  Burr  Is  on  trial 
for  treason  In  Richmond,  the  General  will  ride 
over  the  Blue  Ridge  to  give  him  aid  and  comfort, 

85 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

and  make  street-corner  speeches  defending  him, 
wherein  he  will  say  things  more  explicit  than 
flattering  concerning  President  Jefferson,  who  is 
urging  the  prosecution  of  Colonel  Burr. 

The  hours,  never  resting,  never  sleeping, 
march  onward  with  our  planter-General,  until 
the  procession  In  Its  passing  Is  remembered  and 
spoken  of  as  years.  Then  comes  the  war  with 
England.  That  saber  scar  on  the  General's  head 
begins  to  throb,  and  he  sends  word  to  Washing- 
ton that  he  Is  ready,  with  twenty-five  hundred  of 
his  huntlng-shirt  mllltia,  to  kill  British  wher- 
ever they  shall  be  found. 

The  Government  thanks  him,  and  orders  him 
with  his  huntlng-shirt  followers  to  report  to 
General  Wilkinson  at  New  Orleans.  The  Gen- 
eral does  not  like  this,  the  Wilkinson  In  ques- 
tion being  that  red-nosed  renegade  one,  against 
whom  long  ago  he  warned  the  ambitious  Colonel 
Burr.  For  all  that,  orders  are  orders;  and  be- 
sides a  fight  under  any  commander  is  not  to  be 
despised.  The  General  presently  hurries  his 
hunting-shirt  forces  aboard  flatboats,  and  floats 
away  on  the  convenient  bosom  of  the  Cumber- 
land. He  will  go  down  that  stream  to  the 
Ohio,  and  so  to  the  Mississippi  and  to  New 
Orleans.     As  they   float   downward  with   the 

86 


ENGLAND     AND     WAR 

stream,  the  General  recalls  a  former  voyage 
when  love  and  the  blooming  Rachel  were  his 
companions,  and  is  heard  to  sigh. 

At  Natchez,  word  from  Commander  Wilkin- 
son meets  the  General.  He  is  told  to  land,  and 
wait  for  further  orders.  The  General  takes  his 
boys  of  the  hunting  shirts  ashore,  and  pitches 
camp.  Privily  he  unbends  in  oaths  and  male- 
dictions, all  addressed  to  the  ex-grocer  Wilkin- 
son; for  he  thinks  the  order,  preventing  his 
entrance  into  New  Orleans,  born  of  the  mean 
rivalry  of  that  red-nosed  ignobility. 

The  General  waits,  and  curses  Commander 
Wilkinson,  for  divers  weeks.  Then  occurs  one 
of  those  Imbecilities,  of  which  only  the  witless- 
ness  of  Government  Is  capable,  and  whereof  the 
archives  at  Washington  carry  so  many  examples. 
The  General  receives  a  curt  dispatch  from  the 
war  secretary,  "  dismissing  "  him  and  his  hunt- 
ing-shirt soldiers  from  the  service  of  the  United 
States.  Not  a  word  Is  said  as  to  pay,  or  pro- 
vision for  returning  to  the  Cumberland.  Hav- 
ing gotten  the  General  and  his  little  army  sev- 
eral hundred  wilderness  miles  from  home,  the 
thick-head  Government,  with  no  intelligence  and 
as  little  heart,  coolly  reduces  him  and  them  to 
the  practical  status  of  vagrants;  which  feat  ac- 
7  87 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

compllshed,  It  walks  away,  as  it  were,  hands  in 
pockets,  whistling  "  Yankee  Doodle."  Possibly, 
the  Government  thinks  that  the  General  and  his 
hunting-shirt  friends  can  float  upstream  as  they 
floated  down.  The  angry  General,  however, 
makes  no  such  marine  mistake,  and  the  Intricate 
oaths  which  he  now^  evolves  and  fulminates,  as 
expressive  of  his  feelings,  would  have  won  the 
admiration  of  any  army  that  ever  fought  In 
Flanders. 

The  General's  credit  Is  golden,  since  he  has 
ever  been  a  fanatic  about  paying  debts.  Invok- 
ing that  credit,  he  cashes  a  handful  of  drafts, 
and  marches  home  with  his  hunting-shirt  contin- 
gent at  his  own  expense.  Also  he  indites  a  letter 
to  that  war  secretary  which  reddens  the  latter's 
departmental  ears,  and  causes  his  departmental 
head  to  buzz  like  a  nest  of  hornets.  Later,  the 
Government  pays  the  General  the  amount  of 
those  drafts;  not  because  It  is  right — since  the 
argument  of  right  has  little  Washington  weight 
— but  for  the  far  more  moving  reason  that  Ten- 
nessee, In  a  rage.  Is  preparing  to  desert  the  bone- 
less President  Madison  for  the  Federalists.  It 
Is  the  latter  thought  which  brings  a  ray  of  com- 
mon sense  to  the  besotted  Government,  and  his 
money  to  our  General,  now  back  in  Tennessee. 

88 


ENGLAND     AND     WAR 

The  bellicose  General  is  vastly  disappointed 
at  missing  a  brush  with  invading  British;  for, 
aside  from  a  saber-engrafted  hatred  of  all  Eng- 
lish things  and  men,  he  is  one  to  dote  on  fighting 
for  lighting's  crimson  sake,  and  is  almost  as  well 
pleased  with  mere  battle  as  with  victory.  How- 
ever, he  is  given  scanty  room  for  sorrowful  re- 
flections, since  fate  is  hurrying  to  his  relief  with 
a  private  war  of  his  own. 

The  General,  ever  an  expositor  of  the  duello, 
and  the  peaceful  hours  resting  heavy  on  his 
hands,  goes  out  as  second  for  a  Captain  Carroll 
against  Mr.  Jesse  Benton.  Captain  Carroll  is 
shot  in  the  toe,  and  Mr.  Benton  in  the  leg; 
whereat  the  General  and  the  Cumberland  pub- 
lic groan  over  results  so  inadequate. 

Being  thus  shot  in  the  leg,  Mr.  Benton  dis- 
plays his  bad  taste  by  falling  into  a  fury  with  the 
General.  He  recounts  w^hat  he  regards  as  his 
"  wrongs  "  to  his  brother  Thomas,  and  that  in- 
temperate individual  loses  no  time  in  taking  up 
his  brother's  quarrel.  The  pair  say  things  of 
the  General  which  would  arouse  the  wrath  of 
an  image;  with  that,  the  General  calls  for  his 
saw-handles,  and  begins  to  plan  trouble  for  those 
verbally  reckless  Bentons. 

The  General  takes  with  him  as  guide,  phi- 

89 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

losopher  and  friend,  his  faithful  subaltern, 
Colonel  Coffee.  The  two  establish  themselves, 
strategically,  at  the  Nashville  Inn. 

Across  the  corner  of  the  public  square  upon 
which  the  Nashville  Inn  finds  hospitable  front- 
age, stands  the  City  Hotel.  Sunning  themselves 
in  the  veranda  of  the  latter  caravansary,  but 
with  war  written  upon  their  angry  visages,  the 
General  and  the  faithful  Coffee  perceive  the 
brothers  Benton.  The  enemies  glare  at  one  an- 
other, and  the  General  says  to  Colonel  Coffee 
that  they  will  now  go  to  the  post  office.  Since 
a  trip  to  the  post  office  is  calculated  to  bring 
them  within  touching  distance  of  the  brothers 
Benton,  Colonel  Coffee  at  once  discerns  the  pro- 
priety of  such  a  journey. 

The  pair  go  to  the  post  office,  staring  haught- 
ily at  the  brothers  Benton  as  they  pass.  The 
brothers  Benton,  for  their  side,  being  apoplec- 
tic of  habit,  grow  black  In  the  face  with  rage. 

Having  visited  the  post  office,  and  being  now 
upon  their  return,  the  General  and  Colonel 
Coffee  again  draw  near  the  apoplectic  Bentons, 
glowering  from  their  veranda.  When  within 
three  feet  of  them,  the  General  abruptly  whips 
out  one  of  those  celebrated  saw-handles,  and 
jams  its  muzzle  against  the  horrified  stomach  of 

90 


ENGLAND     AND     WAR 

brother  Thomas  Benton.  That  Imperiled  per- 
sonage thereupon  backs  rapidly  away  from  the 
saw-handle,  which  as  rapidly  follows;  while  the 
public,  assembling  on  the  run,  confidently  ex- 
pects the  General  to  shoot  brother  Thomas  Ben- 
ton in  two. 

The  General  might  have  done  so,  and  thus 
gratified  the  public,  but  the  unexpected  occurs. 
As  brother  Thomas  Benton  backs  briskly  from 
the  muzzle  of  the  saw-handle,  brother  Jesse, 
who  is  not  wanting  in  a  genius  for  decision, 
whirls,  and  from  a  huge  horse  pistol  plants  two 
balls  in  the  General's  left  shoulder.  As  the  war- 
rior goes  down,  Colonel  Coffee  empties  his  pistol 
at  brother  Thomas,  who  avoids  having  his  head 
blown  off  only  by  the  fortunate  fact  of  a  cellar, 
into  whose  receptive  depths  he  tumbles,  just  in 
what  novelists  call  "  the  nick  of  time.''  As 
brother  Thomas  lapses  into  the  cellar,  young 
Hays,  a  nephew  of  the  blooming  Rachel,  hurls 
brother  Jesse  to  the  floor,  to  which  he  makes 
heartfelt  attempts  to  pin  him  with  a  dirk,  but 
is  baffled  by  the  activity  of  the  restless  brother 
Jesse,  who  will  not  lie  still  to  be  pinned. 

The  whole  riot  has  not  covered  the  space  of 
sixty  seconds,  when  the  public,  suddenly  con- 
ceiving Its  duty  to  lie  in  that  direction,  seizes 

91 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

young  Hays,  releases  the  recumbent  brother 
Jesse,  disarms  Colonel  Coffee,  fishes  brother 
Thomas  out  of  that  receptive  cellar,  and  carries 
the  badly  wounded  General  to  a  bed  In  the 
Nashville  Inn.  The  City  Hotel  mentions  Its 
own  beds,  and  lays  claim  to  the  Injured  General, 
on  the  argument  that  the  battle  has  been  fought 
In  Its  bar.  The  claim  Is  disallowed  and  the 
General  conveyed  to  the  rival  hostelry  afore- 
said, as  being  peculiarly  his  own  proper  Inn, 
since  It  Is  there  he  has  ever  repaired  for  bil- 
liards, mint  juleps,  and  to  hold  conferences  over 
pipe  and  glass  with  his  friends. 

Once  In  bed,  the  local  surgeons  burst  In  and 
offer  to  cut  off  the  General's  arm.  The  offer 
Is  declined  fiercely  and  a  poultice  of  slippery- 
elm  bark  Is  substituted  for  that  proposed  sur- 
gery. This  latter  medicament  works  wonders; 
under  Its  soothing  Influences,  and  the  revivify- 
ing effects  of  whisky — both  being  remedies  much 
In  vogue  along  the  Cumberland — the  General 
begins  to  mend. 

The  General,  the  patient  object  of  a  deal  of 
slippery-elm  bark  and  whisky — the  one  applied 
externally  and  the  other  internally — lies  In  bed 
a  month.  Then  the  awful  word  arrives  of  the 
massacre   at   Fort   MIms.      Five   hundred  and 

92 


ENGLAND     AND     WAR 

fifty-three  souls  have  been  slaughtered,  and 
Chief  Weathersford  with  all  his  Creeks,  valor 
sharpened  by  English  gold  and  English  fire- 
water, is  reported  on  the  warpath.  The  news 
brings  the  General  out  of  bed  in  a  moment. 
His  friends  remonstrate,  the  doctors  command, 
the  blooming  Rachel  pleads;  but  he  puts  them 
aside.  Gaunt  of  cheek,  face  paper-white  with 
weakness,  left  arm  in  a  sling,  he  climbs  painfully 
into  the  saddle  and  takes  command. 

The  General  sends  Colonel  Coffee  and  his 
mounted  riflemen  to  the  fore,  with  orders  to 
wait  for  him  at  Fayettesville.  Meanwhile,  he 
himself  lingers  briefly  to  enroll  and  organize 
his  little  army.  A  few  weeks  later  he  follows 
the  doughty  Coffee,  and  the  entire  command — 
horns  full  of  powder,  pouches  heavy  with  bul- 
lets, hunting  knives  whetted  to  a  razor  edge — 
moves  southward  after  hostile  Creeks. 


IX 

THE    GENERAL    AT    THE 
HORSESHOE 


CHAPTER    IX 

THE  GENERAL  AT  THE    HORSESHOE 

THE  General  goes  to  Fayettesville,  and 
orders  Colonel  Coffee  with  his  eager 
five  hundred  to  Huntsvllle,  as  a  point 
nearer  the  heart  of  savage  war.  Volunteers, 
each  bringing  his  own  rifle  and  riding  his  own 
horse,  join  Colonel  Coffee,  who  sends  back  in- 
spiring word  that  his  five  hundred  have  grown 
to  thirteen  hundred,  all  thirsting  for  Creek 
blood.  Meanwhile,  the  General,  weak  and  worn 
to  a  shadow,  can  hardly  keep  the  saddle,  and 
must  be  bathed  hourly  in  whisky  to  hold  soul  and 
body  together.  Unable  to  eat,  he  lives  by  his 
will  alone.  The  shot-shattered  left  arm,  lest 
he  faint  with  the  awful  agony  which  attends 
its  least  disturbance,  is  bound  tightly  to  his  side. 
The  General  takes  the  field,  and  presently 
comes  up  with  the  Creeks.  He  smites  them  hip 
and  thigh  at  Tallushatches,  Talladega,  and  di- 
vers other  places  of  equally  complicated  names, 

97 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

slaying  hundreds  while  losing  few  himself.  The 
Creeks  give  way  before  the  invincible  General. 
Wherever  he  goes  they  scatter  like  an  affrighted 
flock  of  blackbirds. 

The  Indian  is  terrible  only  when  he  is  win- 
ning. He  is  not  upholstered,  whether  mentally 
or  morally,  for  an  uphill,  losing  war.  The 
General  would  like  it  better  if  this  were  other- 
wise. Could  he  but  coax  his  evanescent  enemy 
into  a  pitched  battle,  he  would  break  both  his 
heart  and  his  power  with  one  and  the  same 
blow. 

Chief  Weathersford  is  as  well  aware  of  this 
defect  in  the  Indian  make-up  as  is  the  General. 
He  himself  is  half  white,  and  knows  what  points 
of  strength  and  weakness  belong  with  either 
race.  Wherefore,  when  now  his  Creeks  have 
been  beaten,  and  their  hearts  are  low  in  defeat, 
he  makes  no  effort  to  lead  them  against  the 
General's  front;  but  breaks  them  into  squads 
and  little  bands,  with  directions  to  harass  the 
hunting-shirt  men  and  hang  about  their  flanks 
in  the  name  of  flea-bite  annoyance  and  isolated 
scalps.  Thus  is  the  General  plagued  and  fa- 
tigued nigh  unto  death,  without  once  being  able 
to  lay  hand  upon  those  skulking,  hiding,  flying 
foot-Parthians  against  whom  he  has  come  forth. 

98 


AT     THE     HORSESHOE 

Also,  he  and  his  hunting-shirt  men  are  getting 
farther  and  farther  from  anything  that  might  be 
termed  a  base  of  suppHes.  At  last,  many  a 
pathless  mile  through  wood  and  swamp,  and 
many  an  unbridged  river,  lie  between  the  near- 
est barrel  of  flour  and  their  stomachs  clamor- 
ous for  food. 

The  military  stomach  is  the  first  great  base 
of  every  military  operation.  The  war-wise 
Frederick  had  it  for  his  aphorism,  that  an  army 
is  so  much  like  a  snake  it  can  move  forward 
only  on  its  belly.  The  General  is  made  pain- 
fully aware  of  this  truism  when  he  and  his 
hunting-shirt  men  find  themselves  penned  up 
with  starvation  at  Fort  Strother.  In  the  teeth 
of  his  troubles,  however,  he  makes  shift  to  send 
home  an  orphaned  papoose  for  the  blooming 
Rachel  to  raise. 

Famine  takes  command  at  Fort  Strother,  and 
the  General  writes:  "  He  is  an  enemy  I  dread 
more  than  hostile  Creeks — I  mean  the  meager 
monster.  Famine !  "  There  is  murmuring 
among  the  hunting-shirt  men,  who  have,  with 
the  appetite  common  to  bordermen,  that  con- 
tempt of  discipline  which  belongs  to  their  rude 
caste.  They  are  reduced  to  roots  and  berries, 
with  an  occasional  pigeon  or  squirrel,  which  lat- 

99 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

ter  diminutive  deer  no  one  waits  to  cook,  but 
devours  raw.  One  day  a  backwoods  boy, 
whose  appetite  Is  even  with  his  effrontery,  way- 
lays the  General  on  his  rounds  and  demands 
food. 

**  Here  Is  what  I  was  saving  for  supper," 
says  the  General;  "  you  may  have  that."  And 
he  tosses  the  hungry  one  a  double  handful  of 
acorns. 

The  starving  hunting-shirt  men  mutiny;  they 
draw  themselves  up  preparatory  to  marching 
north,  to  find  that  home-fatness  which  waits  for 
them  on  the  Cumberland.  At  this  the  General 
changes  his  manner.  Heretofore  he  has  been 
the  symbol  of  fatherly  sympathy  and  toleration. 
He  can  make  excuses  for  the  grumbling  of  hun- 
gry men,  and  makes  them.  But  this  goes  be- 
yond grumbling,  which,  when  all  is  In,  comes  to 
be  no  more  than  a  healthful  blowing  off  of  angry 
steam;  this  is  desertion  by  wholesale. 

As  the  lean-flanked,  rancorous  ones  line  up 
to  begin  their  homeward  march,  the  General, 
haggard  and  emaciated  by  those  Benton  wounds 
and  a  want  of  food,  rides  out  In  front.  Halt- 
ing forty  yards  from  the  foremost  mutineers,  he 
swings  from  the  saddle.  In  his  right  hand  he 
carries  a  long  eight-square  rifle.    This,  since  he 

100 


AT     THE     HORSESHOE 

has  no  left  hand  to  support  his  aim,  he  runs 
across  the  empty  saddle.  Being  ready,  he  calls 
on  the  hunting-shirt  men  to  give  the  order  to 
march,  if  they  dare. 

"  For  by  the  Eternal,"  says  he,  "  I'll  shoot 
down  the  first  of  you  who  takes  a  forward 
step!" 

The  sulky,  hungry  hunting-shirt  men  scowl 
at  the  General.  He  scowls  back  at  them,  with 
the  wicked  ferocity  of  a  tiger  and  an  iron  de- 
termination not  to  be  revoked.  And  thus  they 
stand  glaring — one  against  hundreds  !  Then  the 
courage  of  the  hungry  hundreds  oozes  away, 
and  they  fall  back  before  that  menacing  appa- 
rition which  glowers  at  them  along  the  rifle 
barrel.  They  melt  away  by  the  rear,  those  hunt- 
ing-shirt men,  and  lurk  off  to  their  quarters — 
ashamed  of  their  weakness,  yet  afraid  to  go  on. 

At  last,  a  herd  of  beef,  quite  as  gaunt  as  the 
starved  hunting-shirt  men  themselves,  arrives. 
Fires  are  set  going  and  knives  drawn.  There 
is  a  measureless  eating.  Belts  are  let  out  to  the 
full-fed  holes  of  other  days ;  mutiny,  like  an  evil 
spirit,  takes  its  flight.  The  gorged  hunting- 
shirt  men,  as  though  in  amends  for  their  scowl- 
ings  and  mutinous  grumblings,  beg  to  be  led  in- 
stantly against  the  Creeks.     This  the  General 

lOI 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

IS  very  willing  to  do,  since  he  suspects  the 
Creeks  of  possessing  corn. 

The  General's  scouts  tell  him  that  the  scat- 
tered Creeks  are  collecting  in  force  at  the  Horse- 
shoe. Upon  this  news,  one  bright  morning  the 
General  rides  out  of  Fort  Strother,  and  his  re- 
cuperated hunting-shirt  men,  two  thousand 
strong,  are  at  his  back. 

The  Horseshoe  is  a  loop-like  bend  in  the 
Tallapoosa,  which  incloses  a  round  one  hundred 
heavily-timbered  acres.  Across  the  open  end, 
three  hundred  and  fifty  yards  wide,  the  British 
engineers  have  taught  the  Creeks  to  throw  up  a 
fortification  of  logs.  Behind  this  bulwark  is 
gathered  the  fighting  flower  of  the  Creeks,  more 
than  one  thousand  warriors  in  all. 

Arriving  In  front  of  the  log  bulwark,  the 
General,  with  the  experienced  Coffee,  pushes 
forward  to  reconnoiter. 

"  We  can  thank  the  British  for  that,"  says  the 
General,  tossing  his  indignant  right  hand  to- 
ward the  Creek  defenses.  "  Billy  Weathers- 
ford,  even  with  the  half-white  blood  that's  In 
him,  would  never  have  designed  It." 

The  astute  Coffee  makes  a  suggestion  and, 
acting  on  it,  the  General  dispatches  him  by  a 
roundabout  march  to  take  the  Creeks  from  be- 

102 


AT     THE     HORSESHOE 

hind.  The  fatuous  savages  flatter  themselves 
that  the  wide-flowing  Tallapoosa  will  defend 
their  rear.  All  they  need  do,  they  think,  is  lie 
behind  those  English-log  breastworks  and  knock 
over  whatever  obnoxious  paleface  shows  his 
head.  This  is  an  admirable  programme,  and 
comforting  to  the  cockles  of  the  aboriginal 
heart.  There  is  but  one  trouble;  it  won't 
work. 

As  the  circuitous  Coffee  begins  to  swing  wide 
for  his  stealthy  creep  to  the  rear,  the  General 
covers  the  strategy  with  a  brace  of  brawling 
nine-pounders.  Inside  the  log  breastworks,  he 
hears  the  "tunk!  tunk!"  of  the  "medicine" 
drum,  and  the  measured  chant  of  the  prophets 
promising  victory.  In  the  midst  of  the  pro- 
phetic chantings  and  the  dull  thumping  of  the 
tomtoms,  the  nine-pounders  roar  and  bury  their 
shot  in  the  log  breastworks.  The  shot  do  no 
harm,  and  serve  but  to  excite  the  ribald  mirth 
of  the  Creeks.  The  latter  can  speak  enough 
English  for  the  purposes  of  insult,  and  scoff'  and 
jeer  at  the  General,  whom  they  describe — hav- 
ing In  mind  his  lean  form — as  a  lance  shaft, 
harmless,  because  wanting  a  keen  head.  They 
storm  at  him  with  opprobrious  epithet,  and  in- 
vite him,  unless  he  be  a  coward,  to  come  to  them 
8  103 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

over  their  breastworks.  The  General  pays  no 
heed  to  the  contumely  of  the  Creeks ;  he  Is  bend- 
ing his  ear  to  catch,  above  the  din  of  his  nine- 
pounders,  the  earliest  signal  of  the  redoubtable 
Coffee's  attack. 

Colonel  Coffee  and  his  riflemen,  horses  at  a 
walk,  pick  their  diflScult  way  through  the  woods. 
It  is  a  matter  of  no  little  time  before  they  find 
themselves  at  the  toe  of  the  Horseshoe,  and  in 
the  Ignorant  rear  of  the  Creeks.  Between  them 
and  those  one  hundred  tree-grown  acres  held  by 
the  enemy  flows  the  Tallapoosa — turbid,  wide 
and  deep.  Across,  they  see  the  canoes,  which 
the  stupidity  of  the  Creeks  has  left  without  so 
much  as  a  squaw  or  a  papoose  to  guard  them. 
In  a  moment,  a  score  have  thrown  off  their  hunt- 
ing shirts,  and  are  In  the  river.  They  swim  like 
so  many  Newfoundlands,  and  come  out  drip- 
ping, but  happy,  on  the  farther  side.  Presently 
each  of  the  swimming  score  is  upon  his  return 
trip,  towing  a  dozen  of  the  largest  canoes. 

Leaving  a  horse  guard  to  look  after  the 
mounts.  Colonel  Coffee  embarks  his  command 
in  the  canoes;  ten  minutes  later,  the  last  fight- 
ing man  jack  of  them  is  on  the  other  side. 
They  hear  the  boom  of  the  nine-pounders,  and 
the  yells  and  war  shouts  of  the  Creeks.     Also 

104 


AT     THE     HORSESHOE 

they  discover  the  wickiups  of  the  Creeks,  hid- 
den away,  with  their  squawks  and  papooses,  in  a 
thickety  corner  of  the  wood. 

Colonel  Coffee,  who,  for  all  he  is  a  back- 
woodsman, Is  not  without  certain  sparks  and 
spunks  of  military  skill,  sets  fire  to  the  wicki- 
ups, as  an  excellent  sure  method  of  wringing 
the  withers  and  distracting  the  attention  of  the 
fighting  Creeks  at  the  front.  The  flames  go 
crackling  skyward;  the  squaws  and  papooses 
rush  yelling  from  the  slight  houses  of  wattled 
willow  twigs  and  bark,  and  scuttle  into  the  un- 
derbrush like  rabbits.  Unlike  rabbits,  being  In 
the  underbrush,  they  set  up  such  a  dismal  tem- 
pest of  howls,  that  those  rearmost  Creeks  who 
hear  it  come  running  to  learn  what  disaster  has 
seized  upon  their  households. 

Before  they  can  make  extensive  Inquiry,  Colo- 
nel Coffee  and  his  riflemen  open  on  them  with 
a  storm  of  bullets;  and  next,  each  man  takes  a 
tree.  The  war  now  proceeds  Creek  fashion, 
every  man — white  and  red — fighting  for  him- 
self. There  Is  a  difference,  however;  for  while 
the  hunting-shirt  men  are  dead  shots,  the  Creeks 
prove  themselves  such  wretchedly  bad  marks- 
men— not  understanding  a  rear  sight,  which  ar- 
ticle of  gun  furniture  Is  a  mystery  to  the  Indian 

105 


WHEN    MEN    GREW    TALL 

mind  even  unto  this  day — as  to  provoke  a  deal 
of  hunting-shirt  laughter. 

Slowly  but  surely  the  Creeks  give  way  be- 
fore that  low-flying  sleet  of  lead.  As  they  give 
way,  running  from  one  tree  to  another,  their 
hunting-shirt  foe  presses  forward — as  deadly  a 
skirmish  line  as  ever  commander  threw  out! 

The  quick  ear  of  the  General  catches  the  fir- 
ing down  at  the  toe  of  the  Horseshoe.  It  tells 
him  that  Colonel  Coffee  is  busy  with  the  Creek 
rear.  Also,  he  gets  a  far-off  glimpse,  through 
the  trees,  of  the  smoke  and  flames  from  those 
burning  wickiups,  and  understands  the  message 
of  them. 

Drawing  off  the  futile  nine-pounders,  the 
General  orders  a  charge,  the  amateur  artiller- 
ists taking  up  their  rifles  with  the  others.  At 
the  word,  the  hunting-shirt  men  rush  forward, 
and  go  over  the  log  breastworks  like  cats. 

The  one  earliest  to  scale  the  breastworks — 
quick  as  a  panther,  strong  as  a  bear — is  Ensign 
Sam  Houston.  The  Southwest  will  hear  more 
of  him  before  all  is  done.  That  lively  youth, 
however,  is  not  thinking  of  the  future;  for  an 
arrow,  excessively  of  the  present,  has  just 
pierced  his  thigh,  and  is  demanding  his  whole 
attention.     Shutting  his  teeth  like  a  trap  to  con- 

io6 


AT    THE     HORSESHOE 

trol  the  pain,  he  snaps  the  shaft  and  draws  the 
arrow  from  the  wound.  A  moment  later,  the 
surgeon  bandages  it. 

The  General  is  standing  near,  and  waxes  con- 
servative touching  Ensign  Sam  Houston. 

"Don't  go  back!"  commands  the  General 
shortly.  "  That  arrow  through  your  leg  should 
be  enough." 

Ensign  Sam  Houston  says  nothing,  but  the 
moment  his  commander's  back  is  turned  rushes 
headlong  over  those  log  breastworks  again. 
Later  he  is  picked  up  with  two  bullets  in  him, 
which  serve  to  keep  him  quiet  for  nigh  a  fort- 
night. 

Once  the  hunting-shirt  men  are  across  the 
log  breastworks,  a  slow  and  painstaking  killing 
ensues.  Not  a  Creek  asks  quarter;  not  a  Creek 
accepts  it  when  tendered.  It  is  to  be  a  fight  to 
the  death — a  fight  unsparing,  relentless,  grim ! 

''Remember  Fort  Mims!"  shout  the  hunt- 
ing-shirt men,  working  away  with  rifle  and  axe 
and  knife. 

The  Creeks,  caught  between  the  General  and 
Colonel  Coffee,  hide  in  clumps  of  bushes  or  be- 
hind logs.  From  these  slight  coverts,  the  hunt- 
ing-shirt men  flush  them,  as  setters  flush  birds, 
and  shoot  them  as  they  fly.     Once  a  Creek  is 

107 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

down,  out  flashes  the  ready  hunting  knife  and 
a  Creek  scalp  is  torn  off;  for  the  hunting-shirt 
men,  on  a  principle  that  fights  Satan  with 
fire,  have  adopted  the  war  habits  of  their  red 
enemy. 

The  hunting-shirt  men  range  up  and  down, 
quartering  those  one  hundred  acres  of  Horse- 
shoe wood  like  hounds,  killing  out  in  all  direc- 
tions. Now  and  then  a  warrior,  sorely  crowded, 
leaps  into  the  Tallapoosa,  and  strikes  forth  for 
the  opposite  shore.  His  feather-tufted  head  is 
seen  bobbing  on  the  muddy  surface  of  the  river. 
To  gentlemen  who,  offhand,  make  nothing  of 
a  turkey's  head  at  one  hundred  yards,  those 
brown  bobbing  feather-tufted  Creek  heads  are 
child's  play.  A  rifle  cracks;  the  shot-pierced 
Creek  springs  clear  of  the  water  with  a  death 
yell,  and  then  goes  bubbling  to  the  bottom. 
Sometimes  two  rifles  crack;  in  which  double 
event  the  Creek  takes  with  him  to  the  bottom 
two  bullets  instead  of  one. 

The  slaughter  moves  forward  slowly,  but 
satisfactorily,  for  hours.  It  is  ten  o'clock  in  the 
night  when  the  last  Creek  is  killed,  and  the 
hunting-shirt  men,  hungry  with  a  hard  day's 
work,  may  think  on  supper.  Of  the  red  one 
thousand  and  more  who  manned  those  British- 

io8 


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AT     THE     HORSESHOE 

built  fortifications  in  the  morning,  not  two-score 
get  away.     It  Is  the  Creek  Thermopylae. 

The  General's  triumph  at  the  Horseshoe  puts 
the  last  paragraph  to  the  last  chapter  of  the 
Creek  wars.  Also,  It  disappoints  certain  Eng- 
lish prospects,  and  defeats  for  all  time  those 
savage  hopes  of  a  general  race  battle  against  the 
paleface,  the  fires  of  which  the  dead  Tecumseh 
so  long  supported  by  his  eloquence  and  fed  with 
deeds  of  valor.  By  way  of  a  finishing  touch, 
from  which  the  hue  of  romance  Is  not  wanting, 
the  terrible  Weathersford  rides  in,  on  his  fa- 
mous gray  war  horse,  and  gives  himself  up  to 
the  General. 

"  You  may  kill  me,"  says  Weathersford.  "  I 
am  ready  to  die,  for  I  have  beheld  the  destruc- 
tion of  my  people.  No  one  will  hereafter  fear 
the  Creeks,  who  are  broken  and  gone.  I  come 
now  to  save  the  women  and  little  children  starv- 
ing In  the  forest." 

The  hunting-shirt  men,  not  at  all  sentimental, 
lift  up  their  voices  in  favor  of  slaying  the  chief. 
At  that  the  General  steps  In  between. 

''  The  man  who  would  kill  a  prisoner,"  he 
cries,  ''  Is  a  dog  and  the  son  of  a  dog.  To  him 
who  touches  Weathersford  I  promise  a  noose 
and  the  nearest  tree." 

109 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

The  General  leads  his  hunting-shirt  men  by- 
easy  marches  back  to  that  impatient  plenty 
which  awaits  their  coming  on  the  Cumberland. 
The  public  welcomes  him  with  shout  and  toss 
of  hat,  while  the  blooming  Rachel  gives  her  hero 
measureless  love  and  tenderness.  The  General's 
one  hundred  and  fifty  slaves,  agog  with  joy  and 
fire  water,  make  merry  for  two  round  days. 
They  would  have  enlarged  that  festival  to  three 
days,  but  the  stern  overseer  intervenes  to  recall 
them  to  the  laborious  realities  of  life. 

As  the  General  begins  to  have  the  better  of 
his  fatigue  and  sickness — albeit  that  Benton- 
wounded  left  arm  is  still  in  a  sling — a  note  is 
put  in  his  hands.  The  note  is  from  the  War 
Department  in  Washington,  and  reads:  "An- 
drew Jackson  of  Tennessee  is  appointed  Major 
General  in  the  Army  of  the  United  States,  vice 
William  Henry  Harrison,  resigned." 


X 

FLORIDA    DELENDA    EST 


CHAPTER    X 

FLORIDA   DELENDA   EST 

THE  General,  at  the  behest  of  the 
blooming  Rachel,  rests  for  three 
round  weeks,  which  seem  to  his  fight- 
loving  soul  like  three  round  years.  Then  the 
Government  sends  him  to  Fort  Jackson  to  dic- 
tate terms  of  peace  to  the  broken  Creeks. 

The  latter  assemble,  war  paints  washed  off, 
In  a  deeply  thoughtful,  If  not  a  peaceful,  mood. 

The  General  proposes  terms  which  well  nigh 
amount  to  a  wiping  out  of  the  Creek  landed 
possessions.  The  Creeks  go  Into  secret  council, 
as  It  were  executive  session,  and  bemoan  their 
desperate  lot.  They  curse  the  English  who 
urged  them  to  that  butchery  of  Fort  MIms  and 
then  deserted  them.  Beyond  relieving  their 
minds,  however,  the  curses  accomplish  no 
Creek  good.  They  must  still  face  the  Invet- 
erate General,  whose  word  Is,  ''  Your  lives  or 
your  lands !  " 

113 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

The  mournful,  beaten  Creeks  come  forth 
from  executive  session,  and  the  great  formal 
conference  begins.  The  council  Is  called  on  the 
flat  field-like  expanse  In  front  of  the  GeneraFs 
imposing  marquee — for  he  has  come  to  this  mis- 
sion with  no  little  of  pompous  style,  to  the  end 
that  the  Creek  mind  be  Impressed. 

The  Creek  chiefs,  blanketed  to  the  ears, 
feathered  to  the  eyes,  sit  about,  crosslegged 
like  tailors,  In  a  half  circle,  their  only  weapon  a 
sacred  red-stone  pipe.  The  General,  blazing  In 
a  new  uniform,  comes  out  of  his  marquee.  With 
him  are  Colonel  Coffee,  Colonel  Hawkins,  and 
lastly.  Colonel  Hayne,  the  brother  of  him  who 
will  one  day  cross  blades  In  Senate  debate  with 
the  lion-faced  Webster,  and  have  the  worst 
of  it. 

As  the  General  steps  forward  an  orderly 
leads  up  his  great  war  horse,  as  though  the  con- 
ference might  lapse  Into  battle,  and  he  must  be 
ready  to  mount  and  fight.  To  the  rear,  his  hunt- 
ing-shirt men,  one  thousand  strong,  are  drawn 
out,  as  following  forth  those  precautions  which 
produce  the  General's  war  horse.  The  Creeks, 
at  these  evidences  of  suspicious  alertness,  never 
move  a  bronze  muscle ;  they  pass  the  sacred  red- 
stone    pipe    with    gravity    unmoved,    and    puff 

114 


FLORIDA     DELENDA     EST 

away  as  though  the  last  thing  they  suspect  is 
suspicion. 

Big  Warrior  makes  a  speech,  and  Is  followed 
by  She-lok-tah,  the  tribal  Demosthenes.  The 
General  shakes  his  grim  head  at  their  protests; 
there  Is  no  help  for  It,  they  must  give  him  his 
way  or  fight.  The  Creeks  bow  to  the  inevita- 
ble, and  give  the  General  his  way;  which  bow- 
ing submission  Is  the  less  disgraceful,  since 
both  the  Spanish  at  Pensacola  and  the  Eng- 
lish at  New  Orleans,  in  a  brief  handful  of 
months,  under  pressures  less  stringent  than 
are  those  which  now  and  here  In  front  of 
the  General's  great  marquee  bear  down  the 
broken  hopeless  Creeks,  will  follow  their  ab- 
ject example. 

Having  made  peace  with  the  Creeks  on  the 
Tallapoosa,  the  General  lets  his  angry,  war- 
seeking  eye  rove  In  the  direction  of  Florida. 
Many  of  the  hostile  Creek  Red  Sticks  have  fled 
to  cover  there,  where  they  are  made  welcome  by 
the  Spanish  Governor  Maurequez,  and  petted 
and  pampered  by  Colonel  Nichols  and  Captain 
Woodbine  of  the  English.  The  besotted  Gov- 
ernor Maurequez  has  permitted  these  latter  to 
land  an  English  force,  and.  Inspired  by  his  na- 
tive   hatred    of    Americans    and    the    sight    of 

115 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

British  ships  of  war  In  Pensacola  harbor,  has 
surrendered  to  them  the  last  stitch  of  Florida 
control. 

The  General  guesses  these  things  and  sends 
out  scouts  to  make  discoveries.  Meanwhile,  he 
marches  his  huntlng-shirt  men  to  Mobile,  which 
his  Instincts — never  at  fault  In  war — warn  him 
win  be  the  next  English  point  of  attack.  Word 
has  reached  him  of  the  downfall  of  Napoleon, 
and  he  foresees  that  this  will  release  against 
America  the  utmost  energies  of  England,  who 
in  thirty  odd  years  has  not  forgotten  Yorktown 
nor  despaired  of  Its  repair. 

The  General's  scouts  are  a  sleepless,  observ- 
ant, close-going  set  of  gentlemen,  and  fairly  en- 
ter Pensacola.  Presently,  they  are  back  with  the 
news  that  two  flags  float  In  friendly  partnership 
on  the  battlements  of  Fort  St.  Michael,  one 
English  and  one  Spanish.  Also,  seven  English 
war  ships  ride  In  the  harbor. 

They  likewise  say  that  the  popinjay  Colonel 
Nichols  Is  Issuing  proclamations  to  "  The  Peo- 
ple of  Louisiana,"  demanding  that,  as  "  French- 
men, Spaniards,  and  English,"  they  arise  and 
"  throw  off  the  American  yoke  " ;  that  Captain 
Woodbine  is  assembling  the  fugitive  Red  Sticks 
by  scores,   and  reviving  their  drooping  spirits 

ii6 


FLORIDA     DELENDA     EST 

with  English  gold,  English  guns,  English  gin, 
and  English  red  coats. 

Captain  Woodbine,  It  appears,  is  so  dull  as 
to  think  he  may  make  regular  soldiers  of  the 
untamed  Red  Sticks,  and  drills  them  In  the  Pen- 
sacola  plaza,  where  they  handle  their  new  mus- 
kets much  as  a  cow  might  a  cant  hook,  and  look 
like  copper-colored  apes  in  those  gorgeous  red 
coats.  The  tactical,  yet  tactless,  Captain  Wood- 
bine even  makes  his  red  command  a  speech,  and 
is  so  unguarded  as  to  refer  to  "  General  Jack- 
son." This  Is  a  blunder,  since  Instantly  half  the 
assembled  Red  Sticks  desert,  taking  with  them 
the  guns,  gin,  and  jackets  which  have  been  con- 
ferred upon  them.  The  oratorical  Captain 
Woodbine  Is  deeply  impressed  by  the  awful  ef- 
fect of  the  General's  name  upon  his  red  recruits, 
and  their  terror  communicates  itself  to  him. 
He  has  difficulty  in  restraining  himself  from 
deserting  with  them,  but  takes  final  courage  and 
remains.  Only  he  is  at  pains  to  delete  "  Gen- 
eral Jackson  "  from  subsequent  eloquence,  and 
never  again  mentions  that  paladin  of  the  Cum- 
berland In  the  quaking  presence  of  a  Red  Stick 
Creek. 

By  way  of  adding  to  these  hardy  doings,  the 
wordy   popinjay,    Colonel   Nichols,    fulminates 

117 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

new  proclamations,  comic  In  their  ignorance  and 
bombast.  He  believes  that  the  formidable 
General  can  be  whipped  by  manifestoes.  As 
against  this  belief,  however,  most  careful  prep- 
arations move  forward  aboard  the  English  ships, 
looking  to  the  destruction  of  Fort  Bowyer  and 
the  capture  of  Mobile;  for  Captain  Percy  of 
the  Hermes^  who  has  command  of  the  fleet, 
is  altogether  a  practical  person,  and  pins  no 
faith  to  proclamations  and  Indians  in  red 
coats  when  it  comes  to  bringing  a  foe  to  his 
knees. 

All  these  Interesting  items  are  laid  before  the 
General  by  his  painstaking  scouts,  and  he  is  pe- 
culiarly struck  with  the  word  about  Captain 
Percy  and  Mobile.  He  sends  back  his  scouts 
for  another  bagful  of  news,  and  begins  to 
strengthen  and  stiffen  Fort  Bowyer,  thirty 
miles  below  the  town. 

Having  patched  up  this  redoubt  to  his  taste, 
the  General  puts  Major  Lawrence  In  command, 
and  tells  him  to  fight  his  batteries  while  a  man 
remains  alive.  Major  Lawrence  says  he  will; 
and,  not  having  a  ship,  but  a  fort,  to  defend,  he 
follows  as  nearly  as  he  may  the  motto  of  his 
heroic  relative,  and  issues  the  watchword, 
"  Don't  give  up  the  Fort!  "     Leaving  Major 

ii8 


FLORIDA     DELENDA     EST 

Lawrence  in  this  high  vein,  the  General  goes 
back  to  Mobile  to  concert  plans  for  its  protec- 
tion. 

Captain  Percy  of  the  Hermes  is  a  gallant 
man,  but  a  bad  judge  of  Americans.  He  tells 
the  proclaiming  Colonel  Nichols  that  he  will 
take  four  ships  and  capture  Fort  Bowyer  in 
twenty  minutes.  Colonel  Nichols  has  so  little 
trouble  in  believing  this  that  he  conceives  the 
deed  of  conquest  already  done.  Full  of  hope 
and  strong  waters — for  the  English  have  not 
given  the  thirsty  Red  Sticks  all  their  gin — he  is 
so  far  worked  upon  by  Captain  Percy's  turgid 
prophecies  as  to  issue  a  new  proclamation,  de- 
claring Fort  Bowyer  taken,  and  showing  how, 
presently,  the  English  intend  doing  likewise  at 
New  Orleans.  Having  taken  time  so  conspicu- 
ously by  the  forelock,  the  anticipatory  Colonel 
Nichols — who  has  never  been  in  the  chicken 
trade,  and  therefore  knows  nothing  of  what 
perils  attend  a  count  of  poultry  noses  before  the 
poultry  are  hatched — goes  aboard  the  Hermes, 
with  Captain  Woodbine  and  others  of  his  staff; 
for  he  would  be  on  the  ground,  when  Fort  Bow- 
yer and  Mobile  succumb,  ready  to  assume  con- 
trol of  those  strongholds. 

It  is  no  mighty  voyage  from  Pensacola  to 
9  119 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

Mobile,  and  a  half  day's  sail  will  bring  Colonel 
Nichols  and  Captain  Percy  within  point-blank 
range  of  Fort  Bowyer.  Taking  a  bright,  cool 
morning  for  it,  Captain  Percy  lets  fall  his  top- 
sails, and  forges  seaward,  followed  by  the  cor- 
dial wishes  of  Governor  Maurequez  who,  glass 
in  hand,  drinks  "Good  voyage!"  from  the 
ramparts  of  St.  Michael. 

"  All  I  regret  is,"  cries  the  valorous  Governor 
Maurequez,  In  the  politest  phrases  of  Castile, 
"  that  you  brave  English  will  destroy  these  vag- 
abonds, and  thus  deprive  me  and  my  heroic 
soldiery  of  the  pleasure  of  their  obliteration, 
when  they  shall  have  Invaded  our  beloved 
Florida." 

Away  go  the  English  war  ships  In  line,  like 
a  quartette  of  geese  crossing  a  mill  pond,  the 
Hermes,  Captain  Percy,  In  the  van.  The  fleet 
rounds  the  lower  extremity  of  Mobile  Point, 
out  of  range  from  Fort  Bowyer,  and  lands 
Colonel  Nichols  with  a  force  of  foot  soldiers 
and  a  howitzer.  This  military  feat  accom- 
plished, the  fleet,  still  like  geese  In  line,  bear  up 
until  abreast  of  the  Fort,  which  Is  a  musket 
shot  away. 

There  is  no  time  wasted.  The  Hermes  lets 
go  her  anchors  and  swings  broadslde-on  to  the 

120 


FLORIDA     DELENDA     EST 

Fort.  The  others  follow  suit.  Then,  with  a 
crashing  discharge  of  big  guns  by  way  of  over- 
ture, the  fight  Is  on. 

Five  minutes,  ten  minutes,  twenty  minutes  go 
by;  shots  fly  and  shells  burst,  and  Major  Law- 
rence still  holds  the  fort.  Evidently  Captain 
Percy  cut  his  time  too  fine !  Then,  one  hour, 
two  hours  follow,  and  Major  Lawrence's  twen- 
ty-four pounders  are  making  matches  of  the 
Hermes. 

As  the  merry  war  progresses.  Colonel  Nich- 
ols, with  much  ardor  and  no  discernment,  drags 
his  howitzer  to  a  strategic  sand  hill,  and  fires  one 
shot  at  Fort  Bowyer.  It  Is  a  badly  considered 
movement,  the  Instant  effect  being  to  draw  the 
Fort's  horns  his  way.  The  southern  battery  of 
the  Fort  opens  upon  him  like  a  tornado,  and  he 
and  his  fellow  artillerists  retire — without  their 
howitzer.  The  most  discouraging  feature  Is 
that  a  stone,  sent  flying  from  the  strategic  sand 
hill  by  a  cannon  ball,  knocks  out  one  of  Colonel 
Nichols's  eyes.  After  this  exploit,  the  one-eyed 
proclamatlonlst,  much  saddened,  but  with  wis- 
dom Increased,  Is  content  to  stand  afar  off,  and 
leave  the  down-battering  of  Fort  Bowyer  to  the 
fleet. 

This  down-battering  Captain  Percy  and  his 

121 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

sallormen  do  their  tarry  best  to  bring  about. 
But,  as  hour  after  hour  drifts  to  leeward  in  the 
smoke  of  their  broadsides,  and  the  stubborn 
Lawrence  continues  to  send  his  hail  of  twenty- 
four-pound  shot  aboard,  it  begins  to  creep  upon 
Captain  Percy,  like  mosses  upon  stone,  that 
Fort  Bowyer  is  a  nut  beyond  the  power  of  even 
his  iron  teeth  to  crack.  As  a  red-hot  shot  sets 
fire  to  the  Hermes  and  explodes  her  magazine, 
the  impression  deepens  to  apprehension,  which, 
when  the  Sophia  is  reported  sinking,  ripens  rap- 
idly into  conviction.  Major  Lawrence,  with  his 
"  Don't  give  up  the  Fort!  "  all  but  blots  Cap- 
tain Percy — who  has  tenfold  his  force — off  the 
face  of  the  Gulf,  and  he  does  it  with  a  loss  of 
eight  men  killed  and  wounded  to  an  English 
loss  of  over  three  hundred. 

Captain  Percy,  whipped  and  broken-hearted, 
shifts  his  flag  and  what  is  left  of  his  Hermes^ 
crew  to  the  Sophia^  and,  pumps  clanking  hyster- 
ically to  keep  himself  afloat,  goes  limping  back 
to  Pensacola,  lighted  on  his  defeated  way  by  the 
flare  and  glare  from  the  blazing  Hermes.  As 
the  English  pass  the  extreme  southern  tip  of 
Mobile  Point,  as  far  from  the  unmannerly  bat- 
teries of  Fort  Bowyer  as  the  lay  of  the  land 
permits,   they  pick  up  the  one-eyed  proclama- 

122 


FLORIDA     DELENDA     EST 

tionist,  Colonel  Nichols,  and  his  howitzerless 
men. 

The  fleet,  battered,  torn,  sails  adroop,  with 
the  Sophia  three  feet  below  her  trim  from  shot- 
admitted  water  in  her  hold,  reaches  Pensacola. 
Governor  Maurequez  looks  scornfully  dark, 
but,  Spaniard-like,  shrugs  his  vainglorious 
shoulders  and  says  to  an  aide : 

"  It  Is  nothing!  They  are  but  English  pigs! 
When  this  General  Jackson  reaches  Pensacola 
— if  he  should  be  so  great  a  fool  as  to  come — 
we  cavaliers  of  old  Spain  will  tear  him  to  pieces, 
as  tigers  rend  their  prey.  Yes,  amigo^  w^e  will 
show  these  beaten  pigs  of  English  how  the  proud 
blood  of  the  Cid  can  fight." 

The  Red  Stick  Creeks,  furnished  of  a  better 
Intelligence,  In  no  wise  adopt  the  high-flying 
sentiments  of  Governor  Maurequez.  The  mo- 
ment the  English  come  halting  Into  the  harbor, 
the  awful  name  of  "  General  Jackson !  "  leaps 
from  aboriginal  lip  to  lip.  Hastily  tearing  off 
Captain  Woodbine's  red  coats  as  garments  full 
of  probable  trouble,  but  taking  w^ith  them  his 
new  guns,  the  frightened  Red  Sticks  head  south 
for  the  Everglades,  first  drinking  up  what  re- 
mains of  their  gin.  Not  a  hostile  Creek  will 
thereafter  be  found  within  a  day's  ride  of  the 

123 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

General;  all  of  those  English  plans,  which  seek 
the  aid  of  savage  axe  and  knife  and  torch,  are 
to  fall  to  pieces. 

Captain  Percy,  made  ten  years  older  by  that 
fight  and  failure  at  Fort  Bowyer,  goes  about  the 
repair  of  his  ships;  Colonel  Nichols,  omitting 
for  the  nonce  all  further  proclamations,  nurses 
his  wounds;  Captain  Woodbine,  having  now  no 
Indians,  abandons  his  daily  drills  on  the  plaza; 
Governor  Maurequez,  whispering  with  his  aide, 
brags  in  chosen  Spanish  of  what  he  will  do  to 
thick-skull  vagabond  Americans  should  they  put 
themselves  in  his  devouring  path;  while  over  at 
Mobile  the  General  hugs  Major  Lawrence  to 
his  bosom  in  a  storm  of  approval,  and  gives 
that  sterling  soldier  a  sword  of  honor. 


XI 

THE    TWO    FLAGS    AT 
PENSACOLA 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE    TWO    FLAGS    AT    PENSACOLA 

THOSE  two  flags,  one  the  red  flag  of 
England,  flying  at  Pensacola,  haunt 
the  General  night  and  day.  His 
hunting-shirt  men,  twenty-eight  hundred  from 
his  beloved  Tennessee  and  twelve  hundred  from 
the  territories  of  Mississippi  and  Alabama,  are 
lusting  for  battle.  He  resolves  to  lead  them 
into  Florida,  across  the  Spanish  line. 

"  We  must  rout  the  English  out  of  Pensa- 
cola !  "  he  explains  to  Colonel  Coffee. 

"Pensacola!"  repeats  Colonel  Coffee,  look- 
ing thoughtful.  "  It  is  Spanish  territory.  Gen- 
eral! There  Is  the  boundary;  and  diplomacy, 
I  believe,  although  it  is  an  art  whereof  I  know 
little,  lays  stress  on  the  word  boundary." 

"  Boundary!  "snorts  the  General  in  dudgeon. 
*'  The  English  are  there!  Where  my  foe  goes, 
I  go;  my  diplomacy  is  of  the  sword." 

The  General  elaborates ;  for  he  is  not  without 
liking  the  sound  of  his  own  voice.     Governor 

127 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

Maurequez,  he  says,  has  welcomed  the  Eng- 
lish; he  must  enlarge  that  welcome  to  include 
Americans. 

"  For  I  tell  you,"  goes  on  the  General,  "  that 
I  shall  expect  from  him  the  same  courtesy  he 
extends  to  Colonel  Nichols.  Nor  do  I  despair 
of  receiving  it,  since  I  shall  take  my  artillery. 
With  both  Americans  and  English  among  his 
guests,  if  trouble  fall  out  it  will  be  his  own 
fault,  and  should  teach  him  to  practice  here- 
after a  less  complicated  hospitality." 

The  General  prepares  for  the  journey  to 
Pensacola.  The  treasure  chest  shows  the  usual 
emptiness,  and  he  exerts  his  own  credit,  as  he 
did  on  a  Natchez  occasion,  to  provide  for  his 
hunting-shirt  men.  This  time  the  Government 
will  honor  his  drafts  promptly,  for  election  day 
is  drawing  near. 

One  sun-filled  autumn  morning,  the  General 
and  his  hunting-shirt  men  march  away  for  Pen- 
sacola, their  hearts  full  of  cheering  anticipa- 
tions of  a  fight,  and  eight  days  provant  in  the 
commissariat. 

"  We  should  be  there  in  eight  days,"  says  the 
General  hopefully,  "  and  Governor  Maurequez 
and  the  English  must  provide  for  us  after  that." 

The  General  does  not  overstate  the  powers  of 

128 


FLAGS  AT   PENSACOLA 

his  hunting-shirt  men,  and  the  eighth  morning 
finds  them  and  him  within  striking  distance  of 
Fort  St.  Michael.  The  General  shades  his  blue 
eyes  with  his  hand  and  scans  the  walls  with 
vicious  lynxlike  intentness  in  search  of  that  hated 
red  flag.  His  heart  chills  when  he  does  not  find 
it.  There  is  the  flag  of  Arragon  and  Castile; 
but  the  staff  which  only  yesterday  supported  the 
flag  of  England  stands  an  unfurnished,  naked 
spar  of  pine. 

The  General  heaves  a  sigh. 

''  Coffee,"  he  says,  pathos  in  his  tones,  "  they 
have  run  away." 

"  Possibly,"  returns  the  excellent  Coffee,  who 
sees  that  the  General's  regrets  are  leveled  at  an 
absence  of  English,  and  is  anxious  to  console 
him,  "  possibly  they've  only  retired  to  Fort 
Barrancas,  six  miles  below,  and  are  waiting 
for  us  there." 

The  disappointed  General  shakes  his  head; 
he  does  not  share  the  confidence  of  the  optimis- 
tic Coffee. 

''  Send  Major  Plere,"  he  says,  **  with  a  flag 
of  truce  to  announce  to  the  Spaniard  our  pur- 
pose of  lunching  with  him.  We  will  ask  him, 
now  weVe  here,  by  what  license  he  gives  shelter 
to  our  enemies.'* 

129 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

Major  Piere  goes  forward,  white  flag  flutter- 
ing, and  is  promptly  fired  upon  by  Governor 
Maurequez  at  the  distance  of  six  hundred  yards. 
The  balls  fly  wide  and  high,  for  the  Spaniard 
shoots  like  a  Creek.  Finding  himself  a  target, 
the  disgusted  Major  Piere  returns  and  reports 
his  uncivil  reception.  The  General's  eyes  blaze 
with  a  kind  of  blue  fury. 

"  Turn  out  the  troops !  ''  he  roars. 

The  drums  sound  the  long  roll.  The  hunt- 
ing-shirt men  are  about  the  cookery — being  al- 
ways hungry — of  the  last  of  those  eight  days' 
rations.  When  they  fall  into  line,  the  General 
makes  them  a  speech.  It  is  brief,  but  registers 
the  point  of  better  provender  in  Pensacola  than 
that  which  now  bubbles  in  their  coffee  pots  and 
burns  on  their  spits.  Whereat  the  hunting-shirt 
men  cheer  joyously. 

"  The  English,  too,  are  there,"  concludes  the 
General.  Then,  in  a  burst  of  flattering  elo- 
quence: "And  I  know  that  you  would  sooner 
fight  Englishmen  than  eat." 

At  the  name  of  Englishmen,  the  hunting-shirt 
men  give  such  a  cheer  that  it  quite  throws  that 
former  cheer  into  the  vocal  shade.  Everyone 
is  in  Immediate  favor  of  rushing  on  Pensacola. 

The    General   becomes    cunning,    and    sends 

130 


FLAGS     AT      PENS A COLA 

Colonel  Coffee  with  a  detachment  of  cavalry  to 
threaten  Fort  St.  Michael  from  the  east.  The 
Spaniards  are  singularly  guileless  in  matters 
military.  That  feigned  attack  succeeds  beyond 
expression,  and  the  befogged  Governor  Maure- 
quez  hurries  his  entire  garrison  to  those  menaced 
eastern  walls. 

While  the  excited  Spaniards  are  making  a 
chattering,  magpie  fringe  along  the  eastern  ram- 
parts, the  General  moves  the  bulk  of  his  hunt- 
ing-shirt forces,  under  cover  of  the  woods,  to 
the  fort's  western  face.  Once  they  are  placed, 
he  gives  the  order: 

"Charge!" 

The  word  sends  the  hunting-shirt  men  at  that 
mud-built  citadel  with  a  whoop. 

The  Spaniards  are  unstrung  by  surprise,  and 
fall  to  pattering  prayers  and  telling  beads.  In 
the  very  midst  of  their  orisons,  the  hunting- 
shirt  men,  as  in  the  fight  at  the  Horseshoe, 
pour  like  a  cataract  over  the  parapet  and 
sweep  the  praying,  helpless  Spaniards  into  a 
corner. 

The  work,  however,  is  not  altogether  done. 
When  Governor  Maurequez  gives  the  order  to 
man  the  eastern  walls  against  the  deploying 
Coffee,  he  does  not  remain  to  see  it  executed. 

131 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

Having  sublime  faith  In  the  heroism  of  his  fol- 
lowers, for  him  to  personally  remain,  he  argues, 
would  be  superfluous.  Nay,  It  might  even  be 
construed  Into  a  criticism  of  his  devoted  soldiery, 
as  Implying  a  fear  that  they  will  not  fight  If 
relieved  of  his  fiery  presence,  not  to  say  the  fiery 
pressure  of  his  commanding  eye.  Having  thus 
defined  his  position,  the  valorous  Governor 
Maurequez,  acting  In  that  spirit  of  compliment 
toward  his  people  which  has  ev^er  characterized 
his  speech,  gathers  up  his  gubernatorial  skirts 
and  scuttles  for  his  palace  like  a  scared  hen 
pheasant. 

Having  swept  the  walls  of  St.  Michael  clean 
of  magpie  Spaniards,  and  run  up  the  stars  and 
stripes  on  the  vacant  English  staff,  the  General 
and  his  huntlng-shirt  men  make  ready  to  follow 
Governor  Maurequez  to  the  palace.  He  Is  to 
be  their  host;  It  Is  their  polite  duty  to  find  him 
with  all  dispatch  and  offer  their  compliments. 

Full  of  this  urbane  purpose,  they  wheel  their 
bristling  ranks  on  the  town.  Approaching 
double-quick,  they  casually  lick  up,  as  with  a 
tongue  of  flame,  a  brace  of  abortive  block- 
houses which  obstruct  their  path.  At  this,  an 
interior  fort  opens  fire  with  grapeshot  and 
shrapnel,    and    the    huntlng-shirt    men    spring 

132 


FLAGS     AT      PENSACOLA 

upon  It  with  the  ruthless  ferocity  of  panthers. 
To  quench  It  Is  no  more  than  the  fighting  work 
of  a  moment.  The  General,  with  his  flag  al- 
ready on  the  ramparts  of  Fort  St.  Michael,  now 
feels  his  clutch  at  the  very  throat  of  Pensacola. 

Governor  Maurequez,  equipped  In  his  turn 
of  a  milk-white  flag,  bursts  from  the  palace 
portals. 

"  Oh,  Senores  Americanos,"  he  cries,  "  spare, 
for  the  love  of  the  Virgin,  my  beautiful  Pensa- 
cola !  As  you  hope  for  heaven's  mercy,  spare 
my  beautiful  city!  '* 

The  wild  huntlng-shirt  men  are  In  a  jocular 
mood.  The  terrified  rushing  about  of  Gover- 
nor Maurequez  excites  their  laughter. 

"  Where  Is  your  humane  General  Jackson?  " 
walls  Governor  Maurequez,  In  appeal  to  the 
huntlng-shirt  men.  "  Where  Is  he — I  beseech 
you?  I  hear  he  Is  the  soul  of  merciful  for- 
bearance! " 

At  this  the  huntlng-shirt  laughter  breaks  out 
with  double  volume,  as  though  Governor  Maure- 
quez has  evolved  a  jest. 

The  alarmed  Governor,  catching  sight  of  a 
couple  of  dead  Spaniards,  fresh  killed  In  the 
struggle  with  the  foolish  Interior  fort,  expresses 
his   grief   In   staccato   shrieks,   which   serve   as 

133 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

weird  marks  of  punctuation  to  the  laughter  of 
the  rude  hunting-shirt  men.  The  laughter 
ceases  when  the  General  himself  rides  up. 

"  Thar's  the  GIn'ral,"  says  a  huntlng-shirt 
man,  biting  his  merriment  short  off.  "  Thar's 
the  man  of  mercy  you're  asking  for." 

Governor  Maurequez  starts  back  at  sight  of 
the  gaunt  face,  emaciated  by  sickness  born  of 
those  Benton  bullets,  and  yellowed  to  primrose 
hue  with  the  malaria  of  the  Alabama  swamps. 
The  lean  figure  on  the  big  war  stallion  might 
remind  him  of  Don  Quixote — for  he  has  read 
and  remembers  his  Cervantes — save  for  the 
frown  like  the  look  of  a  fighting  falcon,  and 
the  fire-sparkle  In  the  dangerous  blue  eyes.  As 
it  Is,  he  feels  that  his  visitor  Is  a  perilous  man, 
and  begins  to  bow  and  cringe. 

*'  I  beg  the  victorious  Seiior  General,"  says 
he,  pressing  meanwhile  a  right  hand  to  his  heart, 
and  presenting  the  white  square  of  truce  with 
the  other — "  I  -beg  the  victorious  Senor  Gene- 
ral to  spare  my  beautiful  Pensacola !  " 

"  You  are  Governor  Maurequez !  "  returns 
the  General,  hard  as  flint. 

"Yes,  Senor  General;  I  am  Governor  Mau- 
requez, as  you  say.  Also  " — here  his  voice 
begins  to  shake — ''  I  must  remind  your  excel- 

134 


FLAGS     AT     PENSACOLA 

lency  that  this  Is  a  province  of  Spain,  and  ask 
by  what  right  you  Invade  It." 

"  Right!  "  returns  the  General,  anger  rising. 
*'  Did  you  not  fire  on  my  messenger?  Sir,  If 
you  were  Satan  and  this  your  kingdom,  It  would 
be  the  same !  I  would  storm  the  walls  of  hell 
itself  to  get  at  an  Englishman." 

There  comes  the  whiplike  crack  of  a  rifle 
almost  at  the  General's  elbow.  Far  up  the  nar- 
row street,  full  four  hundred  yards  and  more, 
a  flying  Spanish  soldier  throws  up  his  hands 
with  a  death  yell,  and  pitches  forward  on  his 
face.  At  this,  the  hunting-shirt  man  who  fired 
tosses  his  coonskin  cap  in  the  air  and  shouts : 

*'  Thar,  Bill  Potter,  the  jug  of  whisky's  mine  I 
Thar's  your  Spaniard  too  dead  to  skin!  If  the 
distance  ain't  four  hundred  yard,  you  kin  have 
the  gun!  " 

*' What's  this?"  cries  the  General  fiercely. 

"  Nothin',  Gin'ral!"  replies  the  hunting- 
shirt  man,  abashed  at  the  forbidding  manner  of 
the  General,  "  nothin',  only  Bill  Potter,  from 
the  'Possum  Trot,  bets  me  a  jug  of  whisky  that 
old  Soapstick  here  " — holding  up  his  rifle  as 
identifying  "  old  Soapstick  " — "  won't  kill  at 
four  hundred  yard." 

"  Betting,  eh !  "  retorts  the  General,  assuming 

10  135 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

the  coldly  Implacable.  "  Now  It's  In  my  mind, 
Mr.  Soapstick,  that  unless  you  mend  your  mor- 
als, some  one  about  your  size  will  pass  an  hour 
strung  up  by  the  thumbs  so  high  his  moccasins 
won't  touch  the  grass!  How  often  must  I  tell 
you  that  I'm  bound  to  break  up  gambling  among 
my  troops?  " 

The  rebuked  soapstick  one  slinks  away,  and 
the  General  turns  to  Colonel  Coffee. 

"  Give  the  word,  Coffee,  to  cease  firing." 

The  General's  glance  comes  around  to  Gov- 
ernor Maurequez,  still  bowing  and  presenting 
his  white  flag. 

"Where  are  those  English?"  he  demands. 

The  frightened  Governor  Maurequez  makes 
the  sign  of  the  cross.  He  Is  sorry,  but  the  pig 
English  withdrew  to  Fort  Barrancas  at  the  first 
signs  of  the  coming  of  the  victorious  Senor  Gen- 
eral, taking  with  them  their  hateful  red  flag. 
Also,  it  was  they  who  fired  on  the  messenger. 
If  the  victorious  Senor  General  will  but  move 
quickly,  he  may  catch  the  pig  English  before 
they  escape. 

The  General,  half  his  hunting-shirt  men  at 
his  back,  starts  for  Fort  Barrancas.  They  are 
two  miles  on  their  way  when  the  earth  is  shaken 
by  a  thunderous  explosion.     Over  the  tops  of 

136 


FLAGS     AT     PENSACOLA 

the  forest  pines  a  gush  of  black  smoke  shoots 
upward  toward  the  sky. 

"  They  have  blown  up  the  fort!  "  says  the 
explanatory  Coffee. 

The  General  says  nothing,  but  urges  speed. 
At  last  they  come  in  sight  of  what  has  been  Fort 
Barrancas.  It  is  as  the  astute  Coffee  surmised. 
The  one-eyed  Colonel  Nichols  and  his  English 
have  fled,  leaving  a  slow-match  and  the  maga- 
zine to  destroy  what  they  dared  not  defend. 
Far  away  in  the  offing  Captain  Percy's  English 
fleet — upon  which  the  one-eyed  Colonel  Nichols 
and  his  fugitive  followers  have  taken  refuge — 
wind  aft  and  an  ebb  tide  to  help,  Is  speeding 
seaward  like  gulls. 


XII 

THE    GENERAL    GOES    TO 
NEW    ORLEANS 


CHAPTER    XII 

THE    GENERAL    GOES    TO    NEW    ORLEANS 

GOVERNOR  MAUREQUEZ  evolves 
into  the  very  climax  of  the  affable, 
not  to  say  obsequious.  He  assures 
the  General  that  he  is  relieved  by  the  flight  of 
the  pig  English,  whom  he  despises  as  hare- 
hearts.  Also,  he  is  breathless  to  do  anything 
that  shall  prove  his  affectionate  admiration  for 
his  friend,  the  valorous  Sefior  General. 

The  General  accepts  the  affectionate  admira- 
tion of  Governor  Maurequez,  and  leaves  in  his 
care  Major  Laval,  who  has  been  too  severely 
wounded  to  move;  and  Governor  Maurequez 
subsequently  smothers  that  convalescent  with 
nursing  solicitude  and  kindness.  Those  other 
twenty  wounded  hunting-shirt  men  the  General 
takes  back  with  him  to  Mobile. 

The  General  now  gives  himself  up  to  a  pro- 
found study  of  maps.  His  invasion  of  Florida 
has  paled  the  cheek  of  the  Spanish  Minister  at 
Washington  and  given  European  diplomacy  a 

141 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

chill;  he  knows  nothing  of  that,  however,  and 
would  care  even  less  If  he  did.  After  poring 
over  his  maps  for  divers  days,  he  comes  to  sun- 
dry sagacious  conclusions,  and  sends  for  the  In- 
dispensable Coffee  to  confer.  That  commander 
makes  an  admirable  counselor  for  the  General, 
since  he  seldom  speaks,  and  then  only  to  Indorse 
emphatically  the  General's  views.  For  these 
splendid  qualities,  and  because  he  is  as  brave  as 
Richard  the  Lion  Heart,  the  General  makes  a 
point  of  consulting  the  excellent  Coffee  concern- 
ing every  move. 

"  Coffee,"  says  the  General,  as  that  warrior 
casts  himself  upon  a  bench,  w^hlch  creaks  dolor- 
ously beneath  his  giant  weight,  "  Coffee,  they'll 
attack  New  Orleans  next." 

The  listening  Coffee  grunts,  and  the  General, 
correctly  construing  the  Coffee  grunt  to  mean 
agreement,  proceeds: 

"  England  has  now  no  foe  in  Europe.  That 
allows  her  to  turn  upon  us  with  her  whole 
power.  Even  as  we  talk,  I've  no  doubt  but  an 
Immense  fleet  Is  making  ready  to  pounce  upon 
our  coasts.  Now,  Coffee,  the  question  is, 
Where  will  it  pounce?  " 

The  General  pauses  as  though  for  answer. 
The  admirable  Coffee  emits  another  grunt,  and 

142 


TO      NEW      ORLEANS 

the  General  understands  this  second  grunt  to  be 
a  grunt  of  Inquiry.  Stabbing  the  map  before 
him,  therefore,  with  his  long,  slim  finger,  he 
says: 

"  Here,  Coffee,  here  at  New  Orleans.  It's 
the  least  defended,  and,  fairly  speaking,  the 
most  Important  port  we  have,  for  It  locks  or 
unlocks  the  Mississippi.  Besides,  It's  mid- 
winter, and  such  points  as  New  York  and  Phila- 
delphia are  seeing  rough,  cold  weather.  Yes, 
I'm  right;  you  may  take  it  from  me,  Coffee, 
the  English  are  aiming  a  blow  at  New  Orleans." 

The  convinced  Coffee  testifies  by  a  third 
grunt  that  his  own  belief  Is  one  and  the  same 
with  the  General's,  and  the  council  of  war 
breaks  up.  As  the  big  rifleman  swings  away 
for  his  quarters  the  General  observes : 

"  Coffee,  you  will  never  realize  how  much  I 
am  aided  by  your  opinions.  Two  heads  are 
better  than  one,  particularly  when  one  of  them 
Is  capable  of  such  a  clean,  unfaltering  grasp  of 
a  situation  as  is  yours." 

The  General  burns  to  be  at  New  Orleans, 
and  leaving  Colonel  Coffee  to  bring  on  his  three 
thousand  huntlng-shirt  men  as  fast  as  he  may, 
gallops  forward  with  four  of  his  staff.  It  Is  a 
rough,  evil  road  that  threads  those  one  hundred 

143 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

and  seventy-five  miles  which  lie  between  the 
General  and  the  Mississippi,  but  he  puts  it  be- 
hind him  with  amazing  rapidity.  At  last  the 
wide,  sullen  river  rolls  at  his  horse's  feet. 

As  the  General  traverses  the  rude  forest 
roads,  difficult  with  November's  mud  and  slush, 
a  few  days'  sail  away  on  the  Jamaica  coast  may 
be  seen  proof  of  the  pure  truth  of  his  deduc- 
tions. The  English  admiral  is  reviewing  his 
fleet  of  fifty  ships,  preparatory  to  a  descent 
upon  New  Orleans. 

It  is  a  formidable  flotilla,  with  ten  thousand 
sailors  and  nine  thousand  five  hundred  soldiers 
and  marines,  and  mounts  one  thousand  cannon. 
The  flagship  Is  the  Tonnant^  eighty  guns,  and 
there  sail  in  her  company  such  invincibles  as  the 
Royal  Oaky  the  Norge,  the  Asia,  the  Bedford, 
and  the  Ramillies,  each  carrying  seventy-four 
guns.  With  these  are  the  Dictator,  the  Gorgon, 
the  Annidey  the  Sea  Horse,  and  the  Belle  Poule, 
and  the  weakest  among  them  better  than  a  two- 
decked  forty-four. 

In  command  of  this  armada  are  such  doughty 
spirits  as  Sir  Alexander  Cockrane,  admiral  of 
the  red,  Admiral  Sir  Edward  Codrington,  Rear 
Admiral  Malcolm,  and  Captain  Sir  Thomas 
Hardy — "  Nelson's  Hardy,"  who  commanded 

144 


TO      NEW      ORLEANS 

the  one-armed  fighter's  flagship  Victory  at  Tra- 
falgar. These,  with  their  followers,  have 
grown  gray  and  tired  in  unbroken  triumph. 
Now,  when  they  are  making  ready  to  spring  on 
New  Orleans,  their  war  word  is  "  Beauty  and 
Booty!" 

Review  over,  Admiral  Cockrane  in  the  van 
with  the  Torifiantj  the  fleet  sails  out  of  Negril 
Bay  for  Louisiana.  As  the  General's  horse 
cools  his  weary  muzzle  in  the  Mississippi,  the 
English  fleet  has  been  two  days  on  its  course. 

It  is  a  dull,  lowering  December  morning  when 
the  General,  on  his  great  war  stallion,  follow- 
ing the  Bayou  road,  rides  into  New  Orleans. 
He  finds  the  city  in  a  tumult,  and  nothing  afoot 
for  its  defense.  He  is  received  by  Governor 
Claiborne,  a  stately  Virginian,  and  Mayor 
Girod,  plump  and  little  and  gray  and  French, 
with  a  delegation  of  citizens.  Among  the  lat- 
ter is  one  whom  the  General  recognizes.  He 
Is  Edward  Livingston,  aforetime  of  New  York, 
and  the  General's  dearest  friend  in  those  old 
Philadelphia  Congressional  days.  The  General 
gives  the  Livingston  hand  a  squeeze  and  says: 

*'  It's  like  medicine  In  wine,  Ned,  to  see  you 
at  such  a  time  as  this.'* 

Governor  Claiborne  makes  a  speech  in  Eng- 

145 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

llsh,  Mayor  Girod  makes  a  speech  In  French, 
leading  citizens  make  speeches  in  English,  Span- 
ish, and  French.  The  speeches  are  fiery,  but 
Inconclusive.  All  are  excited,  confused,  and 
without  a  plan.  The  General  replies  in  little 
more  than  a  word: 

"  I  have  come  to  defend  your  city,'*  says  he; 
*'  and  I  shall  defend  it  or  find  a  grave  among 
you." 

Following  this  ultimatum,  the  General  goes 
to  dinner  with  Mr.  Livingston. 

Governor  Claiborne,  Mayor  Girod,  and  the 
leading  citizens  remain  behind  to  talk  the  Gen- 
eral over  in  their  several  tongues.  They  are 
disappointed.  It  seems.  They  looked  for  a  mili- 
tary personage  of  romantic,  inspiring  splendor. 
And  what  Is  he?  A  meager,  emaciated  figure 
in  a  leather  cap,  a  Spanish  cloak  of  rusty  blue, 
homespun  coat,  buckskin  breeches,  and  high 
dragoon  boots  as  red  as  a  horse  from  the  pro- 
longed absence  of  tallow  and  lampblack.  Still 
they  cannot  forget  the  Iron  face  and  the  high 
hawklike  glance  of  the  blue  eyes,  in  which  the 
battle  fires  already  begin  to  kindle.  The  man 
in  his  queer  habiliments  Is  grotesque;  in  their 
souls  they  none  the  less  concede  his  formidable 
character. 

146 


General  William  C.  C.  Claiborne 
From  a  miniature  by  A.  Duval. 


TO      NEW      ORLEANS 

There  be  those  who  wish  he  hadn't  come. 
Among  them  is  the  Speaker  of  the  Territorial 
House  of  Representatives — A  French  Creole  of 
anti-American  sentiments. 

"  His  presence  will  prove  a  calamity !  "  cries 
this  legislative  person.  "  He  seems  to  me  to  be 
a  desperado,  who  will  make  war  like  a  savage 
and  bring  destruction  and  fire  on  our  city  and 
the  neighboring  plantations." 

There  is  no  retort  to  this,  for  the  local  spirit 
of  treason  Is  widespread. 

While  the  citizens  of  New  Orleans  are  dis- 
cussing the  General,  he  with  his  friend  Living- 
ston Is  discussing  them. 

"What  Is  the  state  of  affairs  here,  Ned?" 
asks  the  General. 

"  It  could  not  be  worse,"  Is  the  reply.  "  All 
Is  confusion,  contradiction,  and  cross-purposes. 
The  whole  city  seems  to  be  walking  in  a  circle." 

"  We'll  see,  Ned,"  returns  the  General  grim- 
ly, "  If  we  can't  make  It  walk  In  a  straight  line." 

Commodore  Patterson  comes  to  call  on  the 
General.  He  is  one  who  says  little  and  looks  a 
deal — precisely  a  gentleman  after  the  General's 
own  heart,  for  while  he  himself  likes  to  talk, 
he  prefers  silence  in  others. 

Commodore  Patterson  sets  forth  the  naval 

147 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

defenses  of  the  town.  An  enemy  entering  from 
the  sea  must  come  by  way  of  Lake  Borgne, 
and  there  are  six  baby  gunboats  on  Lake 
Borgne.  The  flotilla  is  commanded  by  Lieu- 
tenant Jones,  who  is  Welsh  and  therefore  ob- 
stinate; he  will  fight  to  the  final  gasp.  The 
General  beams  approval  of  Lieutenant  Jones, 
who  he  thinks  has  a  right  notion  of  war. 

"  But  of  course,"  says  Commander  Patter- 
son, "  he  will  be  overcome  in  the  end." 

The  General  nods  to  this.  He  does  not  ex- 
pect Lieutenant  Jones  to  defend  the  city  alone. 
Commodore  Patterson  continues:  ''There  are 
the  schooner  Carolina  and  the  ship  Louisiana 
In  the  river,  but  they  are  out  of  commission  and 
have  no  crews." 

"  Enlist  crews  at  once!  "  urges  the  General. 

The  General  appoints  Mr.  Livingston  to  his 
staff,  and  the  pair  make  a  tour  of  the  suburbs 
and  the  flat,  marshy  regions  round  about.  The 
General  is  alert,  Inquisitive;  he  Is  studying  the 
strategic  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  the 
place.  When  he  returns  he  orders  a  muster  of 
the  city's  military  strength  for  the  next  day. 
The  review  occurs,  and  the  General  declares 
himself  pleased  with  the  display. 

Commodore   Patterson    comes   to   say   that, 

148 


TO      NEW      ORLEANS 

while  the  streets  are  full  of  sailors,  not  one  will 
enlist.  The  General  asks  the  Legislature  to 
suspend  the  habeas  corpus.  That  done,  he  will 
organize  press  gangs  and  enlist  those  reluc- 
tant "  volunteers "  by  force.  The  Legisla- 
ture refuses,  and  the  General's  eyes  begin  to 
sparkle. 

*'  To-morrow,  Ned,"  says  he,  *'  I  shall  clap 
your  city  under  martial  law." 

"  But,  my  dear  General,"  urges  Mr.  Living- 
ston, who,  being  a  lawyer,  reveres  the  law, 
''  you  haven't  the  authority." 

"  But,  my  dear  Ned,"  replies  the  determined 
General,  "  I  have  the  power.  Which  Is  more 
to  the  point." 

The  General  declares  civil  rule  suspended, 
and  puts  the  city  under  martial  law.  It  Is  as 
though  he  lays  his  strong,  bony  hand  on  the 
shoulder  of  every  man,  and,  the  first  shock  over, 
every  man  feels  safer  for  it.  The  press  gangs 
are  formed,  and  scores  of  seafaring  "  volun- 
teers "  are  carried  aboard  the  Carolina  and 
Louisiana  m  irons.  Once  aboard  and  irons  off, 
the  ''  volunteers  "  become  miracles  of  zeal  and 
patriotic  fire,  furbishing  up  the  dormant  broad- 
side guns,  filling  the  shot  racks,  and  making 
ready  the  magazines,  hearts  light  as  larks,  as 

149 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

though  to  fight  invading  English  is  the  one 
pleasant  purpose  of  their  lives;  for  such  Is  the 
seafaring  nature. 

The  General's  "  press  "  does  not  confine  itself 
to  sailors.  Negroes,  mules,  carts,  shovels,  and 
picks  are  brought  under  his  rigid  thumb.  Every 
gun,  every  sword,  every  pistol  is  collected  and 
stored  for  use  when  needed.  Meanwhile,  the 
indefatigable  Coffee  arrives,  marching  seventy 
miles  the  last  day  and  fifty  the  day  before  to 
join  his  beloved  chief.  Also  Captain  Hinds 
of  the  dragoons  is  no  less  headlong,  and  brings 
his  command  two  hundred  and  thirty  miles  in 
four  days,  such  is  his  heat  to  fight  beneath  the 
blue,  commanding  eye  of  the  General. 

Nor  is  this  all.  A  day  goes  by,  and  Colonel 
Carroll  steps  ashore  from  a  fleet  of  flatboats, 
at  the  head  of  a  hunting-shirt  force  from  the 
Cumberland  country.  The  backwoods  cheer 
which  goes  up  when  the  new  hunting-shirt  men 
see  the  General,  brings  the  water  to  his  eyes 
with  thoughts  of  home.  Lastly,  Colonel  Adair 
appears  with  his  force  of  Kentuckians.  These 
latter  are  a  disappointment,  being  practically  un- 
armed, owning  but  one  gun  among  ten. 

"Ain't  you  got  no  guns  for  us,  Gin'ral?  " 
asks  one  of  the  Kentucky  captains  anxiously. 

150 


TO      NEW      ORLEANS 

**  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  have  not/*  returns  the 
General. 

"  Well,"  responds  the  Kentucklan,  while  a 
look  of  satisfaction  begins  to  struggle  into  his 
face,  as  though  he  has  hit  upon  a  solution  of  the 
tangle,  ''  well,  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do,  then. 
Which  the  boys  '11  just  nacherally  go  out  on 
the  firin'  line  with  the  rest,  an'  then  as  fast  as 
one  of  them  Tennesseans  gets  knocked  over, 
we'll  up  an'  inherit  his  gun." 


11 


XIII 

THE     WATCH     FIRES     OF     THE 

ENGLISH 


CHAPTER    XIII 

THE    WATCH    FIRES    OF    THE    ENGLISH 

THESE  are  busy  times  for  the  General. 
He  lives  on  rice  and  coffee,  and  goes 
days  and  nights  without  sleep.  He 
sends  the  tireless  Coffee,  with  his  hunting-shirt 
men,  to  take  position  below  the  city,  between 
the  morass  and  the  river.  Finally  he  orders  all 
his  forces  below — Colonel  Carroll  with  his  new 
hunting-shirt  men.  Colonel  Adair  with  his  un- 
armed Kentuckians,  the  hard-riding  Captain 
Hinds  with  his  dragoons,  as  well  as  the  muster 
of  local  military  companies,  among  the  rest 
Major  Plauche's  battalion  of  "  Fathers  of  Fami- 
lies." There  are  a  great  many  filial  as  well  as 
paternal  tears  shed  when  the  "  Fathers  of  Fami- 
lies "  march  away  to  the  field  of  certain  honor 
and  possible  death;  even  Papa  Plauche  himself 
does  not  refrain  from  a  sob  or  two.  The 
*'  Fathers  of  Families  "  take  with  them  their 
band,    which    musical    organization    plays    the 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

Chant  dii  Depart^  whereat,  catching  the  tem- 
poj  they  strut  heroically.  The  rough  hunting- 
shirt  men  are  much  interested  in  the  "  Fathers 
of  Families,"  and  think  them  as  good  as  a  play. 

The  General  busies  himself  about  his  head- 
quarters, and  waits  for  news  of  the  English,  of 
whose  coming  he  has  word.  One  afternoon 
appears  a  lean  little  dark  man,  with  black, 
beady  eyes,  like  a  rat.  He  introduces  himself; 
he  is  Jean  Lafitte,  the  "  Pirate  of  Barrataria." 
Only  he  explains  that  he  Is  really  no  pirate  at 
all,  not  even  a  sailor;  at  the  worst  he  is  simply 
the  innocent  shore  agent  or  business  manager 
of  pirates.  Also,  he  declares  that  he  is  very 
patriotic  and  very  rich,  and  might  add  "  very 
criminal  "  without  startling  the  truth. 

Why  has  he  come  to  see  Monsieur  General? 
Only  to  show  him  a  letter  from  the  English 
Admiralty,  brought  by  the  General's  old  friend, 
Captain  Percy,  late  of  H.  R.  H.  Ship  Hermes, 
offering  him,  Jean  'Lafitte,  a  captain's  commis- 
sion In  the  royal  navy,  thirty  thousand  dollars 
In  English  gold,  and  the  privilege  of  looting 
New  Orleans,  If  he  will  but  aid  In  the  city's 
capture.  Now  he,  Jean  Lafitte,  scorning  these 
base  attempts  upon  his  honor,  desires  to  offer 
his  own  and  the  services  of  his  buccaneers  to  the 

156 


WATCH    FIRES    OF    ENGLISH 

General  In  repulsing  those  villain  English,  whom 
he  looks  upon  with  loathing  as  Greeks  bearing 
gifts. 

*'  Only,"  concludes  Jean  Lafitte,  his  black 
rat  eyes  taking  on  a  sly  expression,  "  my  two 
best  captains,  Dominique  and  Bluche,  together 
with  most  of  their  crews,  are  locked  up  In  the 
New  Orleans  calaboose." 

The  General  considers  a  moment,  looking  the 
while  deep  into  the  rat  eyes  of  Jean  Lafitte. 
The  scrutiny  Is  satisfactory;  there  Is  nothing 
there  save  an  anxiety  to  get  his  men  out  of  jail. 
This  the  General  is  pleased  to  regard  as  credit- 
able to  Jean  Lafitte.  He  comes  back  to  the 
question  in  hand. 

''  Dominique  and  Bluche,"  he  repeats.  "  Can 
they  fight?  " 

"  They  can  do  anything  with  a  cannon,  Mon- 
sieur General,  which  your  sharpshooters  do  with 
their  squirrel  rifles." 

The  General  has  the  caged  Dominique  and 
Bluche  brought  before  him.  They  are  hardy, 
daring,  brown  men  of  the  sea,  with  bushy  hair, 
curling  beards,  gold  rings  in  their  ears,  crimson 
handkerchiefs  about  their  heads,  gay  shirts, 
sashes  of  silk,  short  voluminous  trousers,  like 
Breton   fisherman,    and   loose   sea  boots — alto- 

157 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

gether  of  the  brine  briny  are  Dominique  and 
Bluche.  One  glance  convinces  the  General. 
The  order  is  issued,  and  the  two  pirates  with 
their  followers  take  their  places  as  artillerists 
where  the  wary  Coffee  may  keep  an  eye  on  them. 

The  English  fleet  arrives  and  anchors  off  the 
Louisiana  coast.  Loaded  scuppers-deep  with 
soldiers  and  sailors  and  marines,  the  lighter 
craft  enter  Lake  Borgne.  They  sight  the  six 
cockleshells  of  Lieutenant  Jones,  and  make  for 
them. 

Lieutenant  Jones,  with  his  cockleshells,  slowly 
and  carefully  retreats.  He  retreats  so  carefully 
that  one  after  another  the  English  boats,  to  the 
round  number  of  a  score,  run  aground  on  divers 
mud  banks,  where  they  stick,  looking  exceed- 
ing foolish.  When  the  last  pursuing  boat  is 
fast  on  the  mud  banks.  Lieutenant  Jones  anchors 
his  six  cockleshells  where  the  English  may  only 
get  at  him  in  small  boats,  and  awaits  results. 

The  English  are  in  no  wise  backward.  Down 
splash  the  small  boats,  in  tumble  the  men,  and 
presently  they  are  pulling  down  upon  the  wait- 
ing Lieutenant  Jones — twelve  men  for  every 
one  of  his.  The  small  boats  have  swivels 
mounted  in  their  bows,  and  by  way  of  prelimi- 
nary, stand  off  from  the  six  cockleshells,  waging 

158 


WATCH    FIRES    OF    ENGLISH 

battle  with  their  little  bow  guns.  This  is  a  mis- 
take. Lieutenant  Jones  returns  the  fire  from  his 
cockleshells,  sinks  four  of  the  small  boats,  and 
spills  out  the  crews  among  the  alligators.  Un- 
happily, it  is  winter,  and  the  alligators  are  sound 
asleep  in  the  mud  below,  by  which  effect  of  the 
season  the  spilled  ones  are  pulled  aboard  their 
sister  boats  with  legs  and  arms  intact. 

Being  reorganized,  and  having  enough  of 
swivel  war,  the  English  fleet  of  small  boats 
rush  the  six  cockleshells,  and  after  a  fierce  strug- 
gle, take  them  by  weight  of  numbers.  The 
English  Captain  Lockyer,  following  the  fight, 
wipes  the  blood  from  his  face,  w^hich  has  been 
scratched  by  a  cutlass,  and  reports  to  Admiral 
Cockrane  his  success,  and  adds : 

"  The  American  loss  is,  killed  and  wounded, 
sixty;  English,  ninety-four." 

Being  masters  of  Lake  Borgne,  the  English 
go  about  the  landing  of  troops  on  Pine  Island. 
The  sixteen  hundred  first  ashore  are  formed  into 
an  advance  battalion  and  ordered  forward. 
They  go  splashing  through  the  swamps  toward 
the  river  like  so  many  muskrats,  and  in  the 
wet,  cold,  dripping  end  crawl  out  on  a  narrow 
belt  of  sugar-cane  stubble  which  bristles  between 
the  levee  and  the  swamp  from  which  they  have 

159 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

emerged.  Finding  dry  land  under  their  feet, 
they  cheer  up  a  bit,  and  build  fires  to  make  com- 
fortable their  bivouac  while  waiting  the  coming 
of  their  comrades,  still  wallowing  in  the  swamp. 

Night  descends,  but  finds  those  sixteen  hun- 
dred of  the  English  advance  reasonably  gay; 
for,  while  the  present  is  distressing,  their  fel- 
lows by  brigades  will  be  with  them  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  they  may  then  march  on  to  sumptuous 
New  Orleans,  where — as  goes  their  war  word — 
theirs  shall  be  the  "  Beauty  and  Booty  "  for 
which  they  have  come  so  far.  And  so  the 
chilled,  starved  sixteen  hundred  of  that  English 
advance  hold  out  their  benumbed  hands  to  the 
fires,  and  console  themselves  with  what  the  poet 
describes  as  "  The  Pleasures  of  Anticipation." 
And  in  this  instance,  of  course,  the  anticipations 
are  sure  of  fulfillment,  for  what  shall  withstand 
them?  The  raw,  cowardly  militia  of  the  coun- 
try?   Absurd! 

As  confirmatory  of  this,  a  subaltern  hands 
about  a  copy  of  the  London  Sun  which  has  a 
description  of  Americans.  The  others  peruse 
It  by  the  light  of  their  camp  fires.  It  makes 
timely  reading,  since  it  is  ever  worth  while  to 
gather — so  that  they  be  reliable — what  scraps 
one  may  descriptive  of  an  enemy.     The  Eng- 

i6o 


WATCH    FIRES    OF    ENGLISH 

lish,  crouched  about  their  fires,  are  much  bene- 
fited by  the  following: 

"  The  American  armies  of  Copper  Captains 
and  Falstaff  recruits  defy  the  pen  of  satire  to 
paint  them  worse  than  they  are — worthless, 
lying,  treacherous,  false,  slanderous,  cowardly, 
and  vaporing  heroes,  with  boasting  on  their  loud 
tongues  and  terror  in  their  quaking  hearts. 
Were  it  not  that  the  course  of  punishment  they 
are  to  receive  Is  necessary  to  the  ends  of  moral 
and  political  justice,  we  declare  before  our 
country  that  we  should  feel  ashamed  of  victory 
over  such  ignoble  foes.  The  quarrel  resembles 
one  between  a  gentleman  and  a  sweep — the 
former  may  beat  the  low  scoundrel  to  his  heart's 
content,  but  there  is  no  honor  in  the  exploit, 
and  he  is  sure  to  be  covered  with  the  soil  and 
dirt  of  his  ignominious  antagonist.  But  neces- 
sity will  sometimes  compel  us  to  descend  from 
our  station  to  chastise  a  vagabond,  and  endure 
the  degradation  of  such  a  contest  in  order  to 
repress,  by  wholesome  correction,  the  presump- 
tuous insolence  and  mischievous  designs  of  the 
basest  assailant." 

The  young  English  officers  find  this  refresh- 
ing as  literature.  It  might  have  been  less  up- 
lifting could  they  have  foreseen  how  ninety 
years  later  England  will  fawn  upon  and  flatter 
and  wheedle  America  to  the  point  which  sick- 

i6i 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

ens,  while  her  bankrupt  nobility  make  that  de- 
spised region  a  hunting  ground  where,  equipped 
of  a  title  and  a  coat  of  arms,  they  track  heir- 
esses to  lairs  of  gold  and  marry  them. 

Now  that  the  satisfied  English  are  asleep 
about  their  fires,  it  behooves  one  to  hear  how 
the  General  is  faring.  The  day  with  him  is  one 
fraught  with  work.  Word  reaches  him  of  the 
captured  cockleshells  on  Lake  Borgne.  Also 
it  reaches  that  valuable  Legislature — honey- 
combed of  treason. 

The  Legislature  sends  a  committee  to  ask  the 
General  what  will  be  his  course  if  he's  beaten 
back.     The  General  is  hardly  courteous: 

"  Tell  your  honorable  body,"  says  he,  "  that 
If  disaster  overtake  me  and  the  fate  of  war 
drives  me  from  my  lines  to  the  city,  they  may 
expect  to  have  a  very  warm  session." 

Mr.  Livingston  catches  the  adjective.  The 
committee  having  departed,  he  propounds  a 
query. 

"A  warm  session,  General!"  says  he. 
"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  " 

"  Ned,"  replies  the  General,  "  If  I  am  beaten 
here,  I  shall  fall  back  on  the  city,  fire  it,  and 
fight  it  out  in  the  flames!  Nothing  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  enemy  shall  be  left.     New 

162 


WATCH    FIRES    OF    ENGLISH 

Orleans  destroyed,  I  shall  occupy  a  position  on 
the  river  above,  cut  off  supplies,  and,  since  I  can't 
drive,  I  shall  starve  the  English  out  of  the  coun- 
try. There  Is  this  difference,  Ned,  between  me 
and  those  fellows  from  the  Legislature.  They 
think  only  of  the  city  and  Its  safety.  For  my 
side,  I'm  not  here  to  defend  the  city,  but  the 
nation  at  large." 

On  the  heels  of  this,  the  Legislature  whispers 
of  surrendering  Louisiana  to  the  English  by 
resolution.  It  Is  scarcely  feasible  as  a  plan,  but 
It  angers  the  General.  He  stations  a  guard  at 
the  door  of  the  chamber  and  turns  the  members 
away. 

"  We  can  dispense  with  your  sessions,"  says 
he.  "We  have  laws  enough;  our  great  need 
now  Is  men  and  muskets  at  the  front." 

The  patricians  of  the  Legislature  are  scandal- 
ized as  being  shut  out  of  their  chamber. 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you,"  cries  the  prophetic 
House  Speaker,  "  did  I  not  tell  you  this  fellow 
was  a  desperado,  and  would  wage  war  like  a 
savage?  '* 

The  members  retire  from  the  guarded  doors, 
cursing  the  General  under  their  breath.  Their 
doorkeeper,  a  low,  common  person,  Is  so  struck 
by  what  the  General  has  said  anent  men  and 

163 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

muskets,  that  he  gets  a  gun  and  joins  that  *'  des- 
perado." And  wherefore  no?  Patriotism  has 
been  the  mark  of  vulgar  souls  in  every  age. 

Colonel  Coffee's  hunting-shirt  scouts  come  in 
and  report  the  watch  fires  of  those  sixteen 
hundred  of  the  English  advance  w^inking  and 
blinking  among  the  sugar  stubble. 

"Ah!  "  says  the  General,  "I've  a  mind  to 
disturb  their  dreams." 

The  General  dispatches  word  to  Commodore 
Patterson  to  have  the  Carolina  in  readiness  to 
act  with  his  forces.  Then  he  sends  for  the  in- 
dispensable Coffee. 

"  Coffee,  we  shall  attack  them  to-night." 

The  wise  Coffee  gives  the  grunt  acquiescent. 

"  Thank  you,  Coffee!  "  says  the  General. 

The  council  over.  Colonel  Coffee  goes  to  turn 
out  the  troops.  This  is  to  be  done  softly,  as  a 
surprise  is  aimed  at. 

Now  on  the  dread  threshold  of  battle,  Papa 
Plauche  of  the  "  Fathers  of  Families  "  is  over- 
come. As  the  intrepid  "  Fathers "  fall  into 
line,  tears  fill  Papa  Plauche's  eyes,  and  he  ap- 
peals to  neighbor  St.  Geme. 

"  I  am  a  Frenchman !  "  cries  Papa  Plauche, 
tossing  his  arms;  "  I  am  a  Frenchman,  and  do 
not  fear  to  die!     But,  alas!  mon  St.  Geme,  I 

164 


WATCH    FIRES    OF    ENGLISH 

fear  I  have  not  the  courage  to  lead  the  '  Fathers 
of  Families  '  to  slaughter." 

"Hush,  Papa  Plauche!"  returns  the  good 
St.  Geme,  made  wretched  by  the  grief  of  his 
friend.  "Hush!  Command  yourself!  Do 
not  let  the  wild  General  hear  you;  he  will  not, 
with  his  coarse  nature,  understand  such  senti- 
ments." 

Captain  Roche,  of  the  "  Fathers  of  Fami- 
lies," steps  in  front  of  his  company.  Striking 
his  breast  melodramatically,  he  sings  out: 

"  Sergeant  Roche,  advance!  " 

Sergeant  Roche  advances. 

"Embrace  me,  brother!"  cries  Captain 
Roche  in  broken  utterances,  "embrace  me!  It 
is  perhaps  for  the  last  time." 

The  brothers  Roche  embrace,  and  the 
"  Fathers  of  Families  "  are  melted  by  the  tab- 
leau. 

"Sergeant  Roche,  return  to  your  place !^^ 
commands  the  devoted  Captain  Roche,  and  the 
sergeant,  weeping,  lapses  into  the  ranks. 

The  hunting-shirt  men,  witnesses  of  these 
touching  scenes,  are  rude  enough  to  laugh,  and 
by  way  of  parody  embrace  one  another  effu- 
sively. As  they  depart  through  the  dark  for 
their  station,  they  break  into  whispered  debate 

i6s 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

as  to  whether  the  theatrical  grief  of  Papa 
Plauche,  the  brothers  Roche,  and  the  "  Fathers 
of  Families  "  is  due  to  their  Creole  blood,  or 
their  city  breeding,  either,  according  to  the  the- 
ories of  the  hunting-shirt  men,  being  calculated 
to  promote  the  effeminate  in  a  man.  While 
they  thus  wrangle,  there  comes  an  angry  hiss- 
ing whisper  from  Colonel  Coffee,  like  the  hiss 
of  a  serpent: 

"  Silence !  " 

Every  hunting-shirt  man  Is  stricken  dumb. 
They  move  forward  like  shadows,  right  flank 
skirting  the  cypress  swamp.  To  the  far  left  they 
hear  the  moccasined,  half-muffled  tramp  of 
Colonel  Carroll's  men  —  their  hunting-shirt 
brothers  from  the  Cumberland.  As  they  turn 
a  bend  In  the  swamp,  they  see  not  a  furlong 
away  the  flickering  and  shadow  dancing  of  the 
watch  fires  of  the  tired  English.  At  this  every 
hunting-shirt  man  makes  certain  the  flint  Is  se- 
cure In  the  hammer  of  his  rifle,  and  loosens  the 
knife  and  tomahawk  In  his  rawhide  belt. 


XIV 
THE     BATTLE     IN     THE     DARK 


\ 


12 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE   BATTLE    IN   THE   DARK 

AS  the  hunting-shirt  men  come  within 
sight  of  the  blinking  lights,  which 
polka-dot  the  sugar  stubble  in  front 
and  mark  the  bivouac  of  the  English,  Colonel 
Coffee  sends  the  whispered  word  along  the  line 
to  halt.  At  this,  the  hunting-shirt  men  crouch 
in  the  lee  of  the  cypress  swamp,  and  wait. 
Colonel  Coffee  is  lying  by  for  the  signal  which 
shall  tell  him  to  begin. 

Before  the  movement  commences,  the  Gen- 
eral calls  Colonel  Coffee  to  one  of  their  cele- 
brated conferences. 

"  It  is  my  purpose,  Coffee,"  explains  the 
General,  *'  merely  to  shake  them  up  a  bit.  An 
attack  will  cure  them  of  overconfidence,  and 
break  the  teeth  of  their  conceit.  This  should 
hold  them  In  check,  and  give  us  time  for  certain 
earthworks  I  meditate.  The  signal  will  be  a 
gun  from  the  Carolina.     When  you  hear  the 

169 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

gun,  Coffee,  attack  everything  wearing  a  red 
coat.  But  be  careful !  "  Here  the  General 
lifts  a  long,  admonitory  finger.  "  Do  not  fol- 
low too  far!  Reinforcements  are  crawling 
out  of  the  swamp  to  the  rear  of  the  English 
every  hour,  and  the  only  certainty  is  that, 
even  as  we  talk,  they  outnumber  us  two  for 
one." 

The  faithful  Coffee  departs.  As  he  reaches 
the  door,  the  General  calls  after  him: 

"  Don't  forget,  Coffee !  The  gun  from  the 
Carolinal  " 

The  hunting-shirt  men  lie  waiting  by  the 
cypress  swamp.  On  their  near  left  Is  Papa 
Plauche  and  his  "  Fathers  of  Families."  Be- 
yond these  is  a  half  company  of  regulars,  which 
the  General  has  brought  up  from  the  near-by 
post.  On  the  Bayou  Road,  between  the  regu- 
lars and  the  river,  is  the  General  himself,  with 
a  brace  of  small  field  pieces. 

It  is  a  moonless  night,  and  what  light  the 
stars  might  furnish  is  withheld  by  a  blanket- 
screen  of  thick  clouds.  No  night  could  be 
darker;  for,  lest  an  occasional  star  find  a  cloud- 
rift  and  peer  through,  a  fog  drifts  up  from  the 
river.  This  is  good  for  the  English,  since  It 
hides  their  watch  fires,  which  one  by  one  are 

170 


THE    BATTLE    IN    THE    DARK 

lost  In  the  mists.  The  darkness  deepens  until 
even  the  hawk-eyed  hunting-shirt  men,  trained 
by  much  night  fighting  to  a  nocturnal  keenness 
of  vision,  are  unable  to  make  out  their  nearest 
comrades. 

The  pitch  blackness,  and  the  fog  chill  creep- 
ing over  him,  tell  on  Papa  Plauche.  He  whis- 
pers sorrowfully  to  his  friend  St.  Geme. 

"  Neighbor  St.  Geme,"  he  says,  "  these  dif- 
ferences should  be  adjusted  by  argument,  and 
not  by  deadly  guns.  I  see  that  he  who  would 
either  shoot  or  be  shot  by  his  fellow-man,  is  In 
an  erroneous  position." 

Before  the  kindly  St.  Geme  may  frame  re- 
sponse, a  liquid  tongue  of  flame  illuminates  the 
broad  dark  bosom  of  the  river.  It  is  followed 
sharply  by  a  crashing  "  Boom !  "  This  is  the 
word  from  the  Carolina, 

The  signal  carries  dismay  into  the  hearts  of 
the  English,  since  Commodore  Patterson,  whose 
genius  Is  thoroughgoing.  Is  at  pains  to  load 
the  gun  with  two  pecks  of  slugs,  and  eighty- 
four  killed  and  wounded  are  the  red  English 
harvest  of  that  one  discharge.  The  frightened 
drums  beat  the  alarm,  and  the  ranks  of  Eng- 
lish form.  As  they  grasp  their  arms  the  nine 
broadside  guns  of  the  Carolina  begin  to  rake 

171 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

them.     With  this  the  English  fall  slowly  back 
from  the  river. 

The  rearward  movement,  while  managed 
slowly  because  of  the  darkness,  brings  discour- 
aging results.  The  English  retreat  Into  the 
huntlng-shirt  men,  who  are  skirmishing  up 
from  the  cypress  swamp.  The  English  are  first 
told  of  this  new  danger  by  the  spitting  flashes 
which  remind  them  of  needles  of  fire,  and  the 
crack  of  the  long  squirrel  rifles  like  the  snap- 
ping of  a  whip.  Here  and  there,  too,  a  groan 
is  heard,  as  the  sightless  lead  finds  some  Eng- 
lish breast.  This  augments  the  blind  horror 
of  the  hour. 

The  trapped  English  reply  in  a  desultory 
fashion,  and  make  a  bad  matter  worse.  The 
hunting-shirt  men  locate  them  by  the  flash  of 
their  guns,  at  which  they  shoot  with  Incredible 
quickness  and  accuracy.  With  men  falling  like 
November's  leaves,  the  English  give  ground  to 
the  south,  which  saves  them  somewhat  from 
both  the  Carolina  and  the  hunting-shirt  men. 

Guessing  the  English  direction,  the  hunting- 
shirt  men  follow,  loading  and  firing  as  they  ad- 
vance. Now  and  then  a  hunting-shirt  man 
overtakes  an  individual  foe,  and  settles  the  na- 
tional differences  which  divide  them  with  toma- 

172 


Major-General  Andrew  Jackson  at  New  Orleans 
From  a  painting  by  Chap  pel. 


THE    BATTLE    IN    THE    DARK 

hawk  and  knife.  It  is  cruel  work — this  unsee- 
ing bloodshed  in  the  dark,  and  disturbingly  new 
to  the  English,  who  express  their  dislike  for  it. 

While  the  hunting-shirt  men  drive  the  Eng- 
lish along  the  fringe  of  the  cypress  swamp,  the 
General,  a  half  mile  nearer  the  river,  is  work- 
ing his  two  field  pieces.  Affairs  proceed  to  his 
warlike  satisfaction — and  this  is  saying  a  deal 
for  one  so  insatiate  in  matters  of  blood — until 
a  flying  ounce  of  lucky  English  lead  wounds  a 
horse  on  the  number  two  gun.  This  brings 
present  relief  to  those  English  in  the  GeneraPs 
front;  for  the  hurt  animal  upsets  the  gun  into 
the  ditch.  It  takes  fifteen  minutes  to  put  it 
on  its  proper  wheels  again.  The  accident  dis- 
gruntles the  General;  but  he  bears  it  with  what 
philosophy  he  may,  and  in  good  truth  is  pleased 
to  find  that  the  gun  carriage  has  not  been 
smashed  in  the  upset. 

"  Save  the  gun!  "  is  his  word  to  the  artillery 
men;  and  when  it  is  saved  he  praises  them. 

At  the  booming  signal  from  the  Carolina, 
the  intrepid  Papa  Plauche  cries  out: 

''Forwards,  brave  Fathers  of  Families! 
Forwards,  heroes!" 

The  "  Fathers  "  respond,  and  go  on  with  the 
hunting-shirt  men.      But  their  pace  is  sedate; 

173 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

and  this  last  results  in  an  impoliteness  which 
disturbs  the  excellent  Papa  Plauche  to  the  core. 

The  hunting-shirt  men  are,  for  the  major 
portion,  riotous  young  blades  from  the  back- 
woods. Moreover,  they  are  used  to  this  prowl- 
ing warfare  of  the  night.  Is  it  wonder  then 
that  they  advance  more  rapidly  than  does  Papa 
Plauche  with  his  "  Fathers,"  whose  step  is 
measured  and  dignified  as  becomes  the  heads 
of  households? 

Thus  it  befalls  that,  do  their  dignified  best. 
Papa  Plauche  and  his  "  Fathers  "  are  left  be- 
hind by  the  hunting-shirt  men,  who,  deploying 
more  and  still  more  to  the  left,  extend  them- 
selves in  front  of  Papa  Plauche.  This  does 
not  suit  the  latter's  hardy  tastes,  and  he  frets 
ferociously.  He  grows  condemnatory,  as  the 
spitting  rifle  flashes  show  him  that  the  vain- 
glorious hunting-shirt  men  are  between  him  and 
those  English  whom  he  hungers  to  destroy.  In- 
deed, he  fumes  like  tiger  cheated  of  its  prey. 

''  But  we  shall  extricate  ourselves,  neighbor 
St.  Geme !  "  cries  Papa  Plauche.  "We  shall 
yet  extricate  ourselves!     Behold!" 

The  "Behold!  "  is  the  foreword  of  certain 
masterly  maneuvers  by  Papa  Plauche  among 
the  sugar  stubble.    The  maneuvers  free  the  far- 

174 


THE    BATTLE    IN    THE    DARK 

seeing  Papa  Plauche  and  his  '*  Fathers  "  from 
those  obstructive,  unmannerly  huntlng-shirt 
men,  who  have  cut  off  their  advance  even  In  Its 
Indomitable  bud.  The  "  Fathers  "  being  better 
used  to  shop  floors  than  plowed  fields,  however, 
make  difficult  work  of  It.  At  last  courage  has 
its  reward,  and  the  "  Fathers  "  uncover  their 
dauntless  front. 

"  Oh,  my  brave  St.  Geme !  "  cries  Papa 
Plauche,  when  his  strategy  has  put  the  huntlng- 
shlrt  men  on  his  right,  where  they  belong, 
**  nothing  can  save  the  caitiff  English  now ! 
Those  ruffians  In  hunting  tunics  who  pro- 
tected them  no  longer  Impede  our  front.  For- 
wards! " 

The  final  word  has  hardly  Issued  from  be- 
tween the  clenched  teeth  of  Papa  Plauche 
when  a  rustling  In  the  stubble  apprises  him  of 
the  foe. 

"Fire,  Fathers  of  Families,  fire!^'  shouts 
Papa  Plauche,  and  such  Is  the  fury  which  con- 
sumes him  that  the  shout  Is  no  shout,  but  a 
screech. 

It  Is  enough!  One  by  one  each  "  Father" 
discharges  his  flintlock.  The  procession  of  re- 
ports Is  rather  ragged,  and  now  and  again  a 
considerable  wait  occurs  between  shots,  like  a 

175 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

great  gap  in  a  picket  fence.  Still,  the  last 
"  Father "  finally  finds  the  trigger,  and  the 
command  of  Papa  Plauche  Is  obeyed. 

The  "  Fathers  "  hurt  no  one  by  this  savage 
volley,  for  their  aim  like  their  hearts  Is  high. 
It  Is  quite  as  well  they  do  not.  The  stubble- 
dlsturblng  force  In  front  chances  to  be  none 
other  than  that  half  company  of  regulars,  to 
whose  rear  It  seems  the  Inadvertent  Papa 
Plauche,  In  freeing  them  from  the  huntlng-shirt 
men,  has  led  his  "  Fathers."  The  regulars  are 
in  a  towering  rage  with  Papa  Plauche;  but 
since  no  one  has  been  Injured,  and  Papa 
Plauche  Is  profuse  In  his  apologies,  their  anger 
presently  subsides.  The  regulars  again  take 
up  their  bloody  work  upon  the  retreating  Eng- 
lish, while  the  discouraged  Papa  Plauche  and 
the  *'  Fathers,"  full  of  confusion  and  chagrin 
at  twice  being  balked,  remain  where  they  are. 

"  After  all,  neighbor  St.  Geme,"  observes 
Papa  Plauche,  "  the  mistake  was  theirs.  Did 
they  not  usurp  the  place  which  belonged  to  the 
English,  In  thus  getting  In  front  of  us?  It 
should  teach  them  to  beware  how  they  put 
themselves  In  the  path  of  my  *  Fathers,'  whose 
wrath  Is  terrible." 

For  two  black,  sightless  hours  the  huntlng- 

176 


THE    BATTLE    IN    THE    DARK 

shirt  men  crowd  the  English  to  the  south. 
Then  the  General  draws  them  off.  They  come, 
bringing  as  captives  one  colonel,  two  majors, 
three  captains,  and  sixty-four  privates.  Also 
they  have  killed  and  wounded  two  hundred  and 
thirteen  of  the  English,  which  comforts  them 
marvelously.  They  themselves  have  suffered 
but  slightly,  and  the  backloads  of  English  guns 
they  carry  will  gladden  many  an  unarmed  Ken- 
tucky heart. 

Now  when  he  has  them  together,  the  beloved 
Coffee  at  their  head,  the  General  leads  the  way 
to  the  thither  side  of  the  Roderlquez  Canal, 
where  he  plans  a  line  of  breastworks.  Ar- 
riving, the  weary  huntlng-shirt  men  build  fires, 
and  make  themselves  easy  for  the  balance  of 
the  night. 

After  a  brief  rest,  the  thoughtful  General 
detaches  a  party  with  one  of  the  field  guns,  to 
interest  the  English  until  daylight. 

*'  For  I  think.  Coffee,"  says  he,  "  that  if  we 
keep  them  awake,  they  will  be  apt  to  sleep  to- 
morrow; and  so  leave  us  free  to  work  on  our 
defenses." 


XV 

COTTON    BALES    AND    SUGAR 

CASKS 


CHAPTER    XV 

COTTON   BALES   AND    SUGAR   CASKS 

IT  is  the  day  before  Christmas  when  the 
General  lays  out  his  line  for  fortifications. 
The  Roderiquez  Canal  is  no  canal  at  all, 
but  a  disused  mill  race,  which  an  active  man  can 
leap  and  any  one  may  wade.  The  General  will 
make  a  moat  of  it,  and  raise  his  breastworks 
along  its  mile-length  muddy  course,  between  the 
river  and  the  cypress  swamp.  He  keeps  an 
army  of  mules  and  negroes,  with  scrapers  and 
carts,  hard  at  work,  heaping  up  the  earth.  A 
boat  load  of  cotton  is  lying  at  the  levee.  The 
cotton  bales  are  rolled  ashore,  and  added  to  the 
heaped-up  earth.     This  pleases  Papa  Plauche. 

"  It  is  singular,"  he  remarks  to  neighbor  St. 
Geme,  "  that  cotton,  which  has  been  my  busi- 
ness support  for  years,  should  now  defend  my 
life." 

There  is  a  low  place  to  the  General's  front. 
He  cuts  the  levee;   and  soon  the   Mississippi 

i8i 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

furnishes  three  feet  of  water,  to  serve  as  a  wet 
drawback  to  any  English  advance.  The  lat- 
ter, however,  are  not  thinking  on  an  advance. 
Supports  have  come  dripping  from  the  swamp, 
and  swollen  their  numbers  to  threefold  the 
General's  force;  but  none  the  less  their  hearts 
are  weak.  That  horrifying  night  attack,  when 
their  blood  was  shed  in  the  dark,  has  broken 
the  heart  of  their  vanity,  and  a  paralyzing 
fear  of  those  dangerous  hunting-shirt  men  lies 
all  across  the  English  like  a  cloud.  More 
and  worse,  the  Carolina  swings  downstream, 
abreast  of  their  position,  and  her  broadsides 
drive  them  to  hide  in  ditches  and  the  cypress 
borders  of  the  swamp.  There  is  no  peace, 
no  safety,  on  the  flat,  stubble  ground,  while 
light  remains  by  which  to  point  the  Carolina's 
guns. 

Nor  does  nightfall  bring  relief.  Those 
empty-handed  Kentucklans  must  be  provided 
for;  and,  no  sooner  does  the  sun  go  down, 
than  the  hunting-shirt  men  by  two  and  three 
go  forth  In  search  of  English  muskets.  They 
shoot  down  sentries,  and  carry  away  their  dead 
belongings.  Does  an  English  group  assemble 
round  a  camp  fire.  It  becomes  an  Invitation  sel- 
dom neglected.     A  party  of  hunting-shirt  men 

182 


COTTON      AND      SUGAR 

creep  within  range  and  begin  the  butchery. 
There  Is  never  the  moment,  daylight  and  dark, 
when  the  unhappy  English  are  not  within  the 
icy  reach  of  death.  There  is  no  repose,  no 
safety!    A  chill  dread  claims  them  like  a  palsy! 

The  English  complain  bitterly  at  this  bush- 
whacking; which,  to  the  hunting-shirt  men, 
reared  in  schools  of  Indian  war,  is  the  merest 
A  B  c  of  battle.  The  harassed  English  de- 
nounce the  General  as  a  barbarian,  in  whose 
savage  bosom  burns  no  spark  of  chivalry. 
They  recall  how  in  their  late  campaigns  in 
Spain,  English  and  French  pickets  spent  peace- 
filled  weeks  within  fifty  yards  of  one  another, 
exchanging  nothing  more  deadly  than  coffee 
and  compliments. 

The  grim  General  refuses  to  be  affected  by 
the  French-English  example.  He  continues  to 
pile  up  his  earthworks,  while  the  hunting-shirt 
men  go  forth  to  pot  nightly  English  as  usual. 
The  situation  wears  away  the  courage  of  the 
English  to  a  white  and  paper  thinness. 

While  the  General  is  fortifying  his  lines, 
and  the  hunting-shirt  men  are  stalking  English 
sentinels,  peace  is  signed  in  Europe  between 
America  and  England.  But  Europe  is  far 
away;  and  there  is  no  Atlantic  cable.  And  so 
13  183 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

the  General  continues  at  his  congenial  labors 
undisturbed. 

Christmas  does  not  go  unrecognized  in  the 
General's  camp.  He  himself  attempts  nothing 
of  festival  sort,  and  only  drives  his  fortifying 
mules  and  negroes  the  harder.  But  the  hunt- 
ing-shirt men  celebrate  by  cleaning  their  rifles, 
molding  bullets,  refilling  powder  horns,  and 
whetting  knives  and  tomahawks  to  a  more 
lethal  edge. 

As  for  Papa  Plauche  and  the  "  Fathers  of 
Families,"  they  become  jocund.  Their  wives 
and  daughters  purvey  them  roast  fowls  in  little 
wicker  baskets,  and  the  warmest  wines  of  Bur- 
gundy in  bottles.  Whereupon  Papa  Plauche 
and  his  "  Fathers "  wax  blithe  and  merry, 
singing  the  songs  of  France  and  talking  of  old 
loves. 

And  now  Sir  Edward  Pakenham  arrives,  and 
relieves  General  Keane  in  command  of  the 
English.  With  him  comes  General  Gibbs.  The 
two  listen  to  the  reports  of  General  Keane,  and 
shrug  polite  shoulders  as  he  speaks  of  the 
savage  valor  of  the  Americans.  It  is  prepos- 
terous that  peasants  clad  in  skins,  and  not  a 
bayonet  among  them,  should  check  the  flower 
of  England.     General  Keane  does  not  reply  to 

184 


COTTON      AND      SUGAR 

the  polite  shrug.  He  reflects  that  the  General, 
with  his  hunting-shirt  men,  can  be  relied  upon 
to  later  make  convincing  answer. 

Upon  the  morning  which  follows  the  advent 
of  General  Pakenham,  the  English  see  a  mo- 
ment of  good  fortune.  A  red-hot  shot  sets  fire 
to  the  Carolina,  as  she  swings  downstream  on 
her  cable  for  that  daily  bombardment,  and 
burns  her  to  the  water  line.  This  cheers  the 
English  mightily;  and  does  not  discourage 
Commodore  Patterson,  who  transfers  his  ac- 
tivities to  the  decks  of  the  Louisiana. 

Sir  Edward  gives  the  General  three  uninter- 
rupted days.  This  the  latter  warrior  improves 
so  far  as  to  rear  his  earthworks  to  a  height 
of  four  feet,  and  mount  five  guns.  On  the 
fourth  day  the  English  are  led  out  to  the  as- 
sault. Sir  Edward  does  not  say  so,  but  he 
expects  to  march  over  those  four-foot  walls  of 
mud  and  cotton  bales  as  he  might  over  any 
other  casual  four-foot  obstruction,  and  go  up 
to  the  city  beyond. 

The  sequel  does  not  justify  Sir  Edward's 
optimism.  The  moment  the  English  approach 
within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  General's  line, 
a  sheet  of  fire  hisses  all  along.  The  English 
melt  away  like  smoke.     They  break  and  run, 

i8s 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

seeking  refuge  in  the  cross  ditches  which  drain 
the  stubble  lands.  Once  In  the  ditches,  they 
are  made  to  sit  fast  by  the  watchful  huntlng- 
shlrt  men,  whose  aim  Is  death  and  who  shoot 
at  every  exposed  two  square  Inches  of  English 
flesh  and  blood. 

All  day  the  English  must  crouch  In  the  sav- 
ing mud  and  water  of  those  ditches,  and  It 
ruffles  their  self-regard.  With  darkness  for  a 
shield,  Sir  Edward  brings  them  off.  .  He  ex- 
plains the  disaster  to  his  staff  by  calling  It  a 
"  reconnolssance."  General  Keane  also  calls  It  a 
"  reconnolssance  " ;  but  there  Is  a  satisfied  grin 
on  his  war-worn  face.  Sir  Edward  has  received 
a  taste  of  the  mettle  of  those  "  peasants,"  and 
may  now  take  a  more  tolerant,  and  less  politely 
cynical,  view  of  what  earlier  setbacks  were  ex- 
perienced by  General  Keane.  As  for  the  sev- 
enty dead  who  He,  faces  to  the  quiet  stars, 
among  the  sugar  stubble,  they  say  nothing. 
And  whether  It  be  called  a  "  reconnolssance  " 
or  a  defeat  matters  little  to  them. 

"What  do  you  think  of  It?  "  asks  Sir  Ed- 
ward of  his  friend.  General  GIbbs,  as  the  two 
confer  over  a  bottle  of  port. 

"  Sir  Edward,"  returns  the  General,  "  I 
should  call  a  council  of  war." 

i86 


COTTON      AND      SUGAR 

Sir  Edward  winces.  It  is  too  great  an  honor 
for  the  brother-in-law  of  Lord  Wellington  to 
pay  a  "  Copper  Captain "  like  the  General. 
For  all  that  he  calls  it;  and  the  call  assembles, 
besides  Generals  Gibbs  and  Keane,  those  salt- 
water soldiers,  Admirals  Cochrane,  Codrington 
and  Malcolm,  and  Captain  Hardy  whom  Nel- 
son loved.  Sir  John  Burgoyne,  the  chief  of  the 
English  engineers,  is  also  there.  The  solemn 
debate  lasts  hours.  The  decision  is  to  regard 
the  General's  position  as  "  A  walled  and  forti- 
fied place,  to  be  reduced  by  regular  and  formal 
approaches."  Which  is  flattering  to  the  Gen- 
eral's engineering  skill. 

The  council  breaks  up.  The  next  morning 
Sir  John  Burgoyne  commits  a  stroke  of  genius. 
He  rolls  out  of  the  storehouses  to  the  English 
rear  countless  hogsheads  of  sugar.  Night  sets 
in,  foggy  and  black.  Under  its  protecting 
cover,  Sir  John  trundles  his  hundreds  of  hogs- 
heads to  a  point  not  six  hundred  yards  from 
the  General's  mud  walls.  Till  daybreak  the 
English  work.  They  set  the  hogsheads  on 
end — four  close-packed  thicknesses  of  them, 
two  tier  high.  Ingenious  portholes  are  left  to 
receive  the  muzzles  of  the  guns,  and  thirty 
cannon,  which  have  been  dragged  through  the 

187 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

cypress  swamp  from  the  fleet,  are  placed  in 
position. 

Those  hogsheads  of  sugar,  with  the  thirty 
black  muzzles  frowning  forth.  Impress  folk  as 
a  most  formidable  fortallce,  when  the  upshooting 
sun  rolls  back  the  fog  and  offers  a  view  of  them. 
The  General,  however,  does  not  hesitate;  he 
Instantly  opens  with  his  five,  and  the  thirty 
guns  of  the  English  bellow  their  Iron  response. 
Hardly  a  whit  behind  the  General,  the  active 
Commodore  Patterson  drops  downstream  with 
the  Louisiana,  and  throws  the  weight  of  her 
broadsides  against  the  English. 

The  big-gun  duel  Is  hot  and  furious,  and  the 
rolling  clouds  of  powder  smoke  shut  out  the 
fighters  from  one  another.  They  do  not  pause 
for  that,  but  fire  blindly  through  the  smoke, 
sighting  their  guns  by  guess.  When  the  smoke 
has  cloaked  the  scene,  Sir  Edward  orders  two 
columns  of  the  English  foot  to  storm  the  Gen- 
eral's mud  walls. 

The  columns  advance,  and  run  headforemost 
Into  the  huntlng-shirt  men.  The  sleety  rain  of 
lead  which  greets  them  rolls  the  columns  up 
like  two  red  carpets.  The  recoiling  columns 
break,  and  the  English  take  cover  for  a  second 
time    in    those    saving   ditches.      They    declare 

i88 


COTTON      AND     SUGAR 

among  themselves  that  mortal  man  might  more 
easily  face  the  fires  of  hell  itself,  than  the 
flame-filled  muzzles  of  the  hunting-shirt  men, 
who  seem  to  be  Death's  very  agents  upon 
earth. 

As  the  broken  English  crouch  in  those 
ditches  the  fire  of  Sir  John  Burgoyne's  big  guns 
begins  to  falter.  The  smoke  is  so  thick  that  no 
one  may  tell  the  cause.  At  last  the  English 
volleys  altogether  end,  and  the  General  orders 
Dominique  and  Bluche,  with  their  swarthy 
pirate  crews  from  Barrataria,  and  what  other 
artillerists  are  serving  his  quintette  of  guns,  to 
cease  their  stormy  work.  With  that  a  silence 
falls  on  both  sides. 

The  breeze  from  the  river  tears  the  smoky 
veil  aside;  and  lo!  that  noble  fortification  of 
sugar  hogsheads  is  heaped  and  piled  in  ruins. 
The  General's  solid  shot  go  through  and 
through  those  hogsheads  of  sugar,  as  though 
they  are  hogsheads  of  snow.  Five  of  the  thirty 
English  guns  are  smashed.  The  proud  work 
of  Sir  John  Burgoyne  presents  a  spectacle  of 
desolation,  while  the  English  who  serve  the 
batteries  go  flying  for  their  lives.  Not  all! 
The  three-score  dead  remain — the  only  English 
whose  honor  is  saved  that  day ! 

189 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

Sir  Edward's  cheek  is  white  as  death.  He 
blames  Sir  John  Burgoyne,  who  has  erred,  he 
says,  in  constructing  the  works.  Sir  John  did 
err,  and  Sir  Edward  is  right.  Forty  years 
later,  the  same  Sir  John  will  repeat  the  same 
mistake  at  Sebastapol;  which  shows  how  there 
be  Bourbons  among  the  English,  learning  noth- 
ing, forgetting  nothing. 

As  the  English  skulk  in  clusters,  and  ragged, 
beaten  groups  for  their  old  position  beyond  the 
General's  long  reach,  the  fear  of  death  is  writ- 
ten on  their  faces.  It  will  take  a  long  rest, 
and  much  must  be  forgotten,  e'er  they  may 
be  brought  front  to  front  with  the  General 
again. 

Among  the  hunting-shirt  men  are  exultation 
and  crowing  triumph.  Only  Papa  Plauche  is 
sad.  During  the  fight,  the  cotton  bales  in 
front  of  Papa  Plauche  and  the  "  Fathers  "  are 
sorely  knocked  about.  As  though  this  be  not 
enough,  what  must  a  felon  hot  shot  do  but  set 
one  of  them  ablaze !  The  smoke  fills  the  noses 
of  Papa  Plauche  and  his  "  Fathers,"  and 
makes  them  sneeze.  It  burns  their  eyes  until 
the  tears  the  "  Fathers  "  shed  might  make  one 
think  them  engaged  upon  the  very  funeral  of 
Papa  Plauche  himself. 

190 


COTTON      AND      SUGAR 

In  the  tearful  sneezing  midst  of  this  an- 
guish, a  vagrant  flying  flake  of  cotton,  all  afire, 
explodes  an  ammunition  wagon  to  the  heroic 
rear  of  Papa  Plauche  and  the  "  Fathers,"  and 
the  shock  is  as  the  awful  shock  of  doom. 

The  fortitude  of  Hercules  would  fail  at  such 
a  pinch!  Papa  Plauche  and  the  "Fathers" 
actually  and  for  the  moment  think  on  flight! 
But  whither  shall  they  fly?  They  are  caught 
between  Satan  and  a  deepest  sea — the  ammuni- 
tion wagon  and  the  English !  Also  to  the  right, 
plying  sponge  and  rammer,  are  the  pirate  Bar- 
ratarians  who  are  as  bad  as  the  English! 
While  to  the  left  is  the  General,  who  is  worse 
than  the  ammunition  wagon. 

*' It  is  written!"  murmurs  Papa  Plauche; 
"  our  fate  is  sure !  We  must  perish  where  we 
stand!  "  Papa  Plauche  extends  his  hands,  and 
cries:  "  Courage,  my  heroes!  Give  your  hearts 
to  heaven,  your  fame  to  posterity,  and  show 
history  how  '  Fathers  of  Families  '  can  die !  " 

From  the  cypress  swamp  a  last  detachment 
of  reenforcements  emerges,  and  meets  the 
beaten  English  coming  back.  General  Lam- 
bert, with  the  reenforcements,  is  shocked  as  he 
reads  their  broken-hearted  story  in  their  eyes. 

"What    is    It,    Colonel?"    he    whispers    to 

191 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

Colonel  Dale  of  the  Highlanders.     "  In  heav- 
en's name,  what  stopped  you?  " 

"Bullets,  mon!"  returns  the  Scotchman. 
"  Naught  but  bullets !  The  fire  of  those  de'ils 
in  lang  shirts  wud  'a'  stopped  Caesar  himsel'  !  " 


XVI 
THE    EIGHTH    OF    JANUARY 


CHAPTER    XVI 

THE    EIGHTH    OF   JANUARY 

BACK  to  his  negroes  and  mules  and  carts 
and  scrapers  goes  the  General,  and  sets 
them  to  renewed  hard  labor  on  those 
immortal  mud  walls  which  he  will  never  get 
too  high.  Those  cotton  bales,  so  distressing  to 
Papa  Plauche  and  the  "  Fathers,"  are  elimina- 
ted, at  which  that  paternal  commander  breathes 
freer.  The  hunting-shirt  men,  with  each  going 
down  of  the  sun,  resume  their  nighthawk  par- 
ties, which  swoop  upon  English  sentinels,  taking 
lives  and  guns. 

The  English  themselves  are  a  prey  to  dejec- 
tion. The  foe  against  whom  they  war  is  so 
strange,  so  savage,  so  sleepless,  so  coldly  invet- 
erate !  Also  those  incessant  night  attacks  sap 
their  manhood.  They  build  no  fires  now,  but 
sit  in  darkness  through  the  nights.  A  fire  is 
but  the  attractive  prelude  to  a  shower  of  noc- 
turnal lead,   and  the  woefully  lengthening  list 

195 


WHEN    MEN     GREW    TALL 

of  dead  and  wounded  tells  strongly  against  It. 
To  even  light  a  cigar  after  dark  Is  an  approach 
to  suicide;  and  so  the  English  wrap  themselves 
In  blackness — very  miserable!  Their  earlier 
horror  of  the  hunting-shirt  men  is  Increased; 
for  they  have  three  times  studied  backwoods 
marksmanship  from  the  standpoint  of  targets, 
and  the  dumb  chill  about  their  heart-roots  Is 
a  testimony  to  Its  awful  accuracy. 

The  General,  who  reads  humanity  as  astron- 
omers read  the  heavens,  Is  not  wanting  In  no- 
tions of  the  gloom  which  envelops  the  English 
like  a  funeral  pall. 

"  Coffee,"  says  he,  at  one  of  those  famous 
war  councils  of  two,  "  In  their  souls  we  have 
them  beaten.  They  will  fight  again;  but  only 
from  pride.  Their  hope  Is  gone,  Coffee;  we 
have  broken  their  hearts." 

The  reports  of  the  General's  scouts  teach 
him  that  the  English  will  put  a  force  across 
the  river.  In  anticipation,  he  dispatches  Com- 
modore Patterson,  with  a  mixed  command  of 
soldiers  and  sailors,  to  fortify  the  west  bank. 
Commodore  Patterson  emulates  the  General's 
four-foot  mud  walls  and  throws  up  a  re- 
doubt of  his  own,  mounting  thereon  twelve 
elghteen-pounders    taken    from    the   Louisiana. 

196 


THE    EIGHTH    OF    JANUARY 

He  tries  one  on  the  English  opposite.  The  re- 
sult Is  gratifying;  the  gum  pitches  a  solid  shot 
all  across  the  Mississippi  and  Into  the  English 
lines. 

Eight  days  pass  by  in  Indian  file,  and  Sir 
Edward  Pakenham  with  his  English  feels  that, 
for  his  safety  as  much  as  his  honor,  he  must 
attack  the  General,  whose  mud  walls  increase 
with  each  new  sunset.  The  General  foresees 
this,  and  has  reports  of  Sir  Edward's  movements 
brought  him  every  hour. 

On  the  morning  of  the  eighth  the  General's 
scouts  wake  him  at  two  o'clock  and  say  that 
the  English  are  astir.  He  is  instantly  abroad; 
the  word  goes  down  the  line;  by  four  o'clock 
every  rifle  Is  ready,  each  hunting-shirt  man  at 
his  post. 

The  weak  spot,  the  one  at  which  Sir  Edward 
will  level  his  utmost  force,  is  where  the  Gen- 
eral's line  finds  an  end  in  the  moss-hung 
cypress  swamp.  It  Is  there  he  stations  the  re- 
liable Coffee  with  his  hunting-shirt  men.  To 
the  rear,  as  a  reserve,  is  General  Adair  with 
what  Kentuckians  the  good,  unerring  offices  of 
those  night-prowling  hunting-shirt  men  have 
armed  at  the  red  expense  of  the  English. 

In  the  center  Is  the  redoubtable  Papa  Plauche 

197 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

and  his  "  Fathers."  The  "  Fathers  "  are  be- 
tween the  pirates  Dominique  and  Bluche  and 
Captain  Humphries  of  the  regular  artillery. 

Papa  Plauche  is  rejoiced  at  being  thus 
thrust  into  the  center. 

*' For  my  heroes!"  cries  Papa  Plauche,  in 
a  speech  which  he  makes  the  "  Fathers,"  "  the 
center  is  the  heart — the  home  of  honor!  On 
us,  my  Fathers,  devolves  the  main  defense  of 
our  beloved  city,  where  sleep  our  wives  and 
children.  Wherefore,  be  brave  as  vigilant — 
vigilant  as  brave !  " 

Papa  Plauche's  voice  is  husky,  but  not  from 
fear.  No,  it  is  husky  by  reason  of  a  cold  which, 
despite  certain  woolen  nightcaps  wherewith  the 
excellent  Madam  Plauche  equipped  him  for  the 
field,  he  has  contracted  in  sleeping  damply 
among  the  stubble  and  the  river  fogs. 

Six  hundred  yards  in  front  of  the  General's 
mud  walls,  and  near  the  river,  are  a  huddle  of 
plantation  buildings.  The  English,  he  argues, 
will  mask  a  part  of  their  advance  with  these 
structures.  The  forethoughtful  General  pre- 
pares for  this,  and  has  furnaces  heating  shot, 
to  set  those  buildings  blazing  at  the  psycho- 
logical moment. 

Also,   in  response  to  a  comic  cynicism  not 

198 


THE    EIGHTH    OF    JANUARY 

usual  with  him,  he  has  out  the  brass  band  of 
Papa  Plauche,  with  Instructions  to  strike  up 
"  Yankee  Doodle  "  as  the  first  gun  Is  fired. 
The  band,  In  compliment  to  the  General,  has 
been  privily  rehearsing  "  'Possum  up  a  Gum 
Tree,"  which  It  understands  Is  the  national  an- 
them of  Tennessee,  and  offers  to  play  that. 

The  General  thanks  the  band,  but  declines 
"  'Possum  up  a  Gum  Tree."  It  will  not  be 
understood  by  the  English;  whereas  "Yankee 
Doodle  "  they  have  known  and  loathed  for 
forty  years. 

"  Give  'em  '  Yankee  Doodle,'  "  says  the  Gen- 
eral. "  Since  they  are  so  eager  to  dance,  we'll 
furnish  the  proper  music." 

Sir  Edward  is  as  soon  afoot  as  is  the  Gen- 
eral. He  finds  his  English  steady  yet  dull; 
they  will  fight,  but  not  with  spirit.  As  the 
General  assured  the  conferring  Coffee,  the 
hunting-shirt  men,  with  their  long  rifles  like 
wands  of  death,  have  broken  the  English  heart. 

The  English  are  to  advance  in  three  col- 
umns; General  Keane  on  the  right  with  Ren- 
nie's  Rifles,  In  the  center  Dale's  Highlanders, 
on  the  left,  where  the  main  attack  Is  to  be 
launched,  General  Gibbs,  with  three  thousand 
of  the  pride  of  England  at  his  back.  General 
14  199 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

Lambert  is  to  hold  himself  in  the  rear  of  Gen- 
eral GIbbs,  with  two  regiments  as  a  reserve. 
As  the  columns  form,  there  are  eighty-five 
hundred  of  the  English;  against  which  the 
General  opposes  a  scanty  thirty-two  hundred. 
And  yet,  upon  those  overpowering  eighty-five 
hundred  hangs  a  silence  like  a  sadness,  as 
though  they  are  about  to  go  marching  to  their 
graves. 

The  solemn  fear  In  which  the  English  hold 
the  huntlng-shirt  men  finds  pathetic  evidence. 
As  the  columns  wheel  Into  position.  Colonel 
Dale  of  the  Highlanders  gives  a  letter  and  his 
watch  to  the  surgeon. 

"  Carry  them  to  my  wife,"  says  he,  "  and 
tell  her  that  I  died  at  the  head  of  rny  regi- 
ment." 

The  Forty-fourth  is  told  off  to  lead  the  main 
attack,  and  Colonel  Mulllns  breaks  into  hys- 
terical anger. 

"  My  regiment,"  he  cries,  "  has  been  or- 
dered for  execution !  Our  dead  bodies  are  to 
fill  the  ditch,  and  form  a  bridge  for  the  others 
to  cross  upon !  " 

Sir  Duncan  Campbell  comes  among  his 
Highlanders,  wrapped  in  a  cloak.  Some  one 
suggests  that  he  lay  It  aside. 

200 


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THE    EIGHTH    OF    JANUARY 

"  Never!  "  says  he;  *'  I'll  peel  for  no  Ameri- 
can! "  and  twenty-four  hours  later  he  Is  burled 
In  that  cloak. 

The  English  stand  to  their  arms,  and  wait 
the  breaking  of  day.  Slowly  the  minutes  drag 
their  leaden  length  along;  morning  comes  at 
last. 

With  the  first  streaks  of  livid  dawn,  a  con- 
greve  rocket  flashes  skyward  from  Sir  Edward's 
headquarters.  The  rocket  Is  the  English  sig- 
nal to  advance.  In  a  moment,  General  GIbbs, 
General  Keane,  and  Colonel  Dale  with  his 
"  praying "   Highlanders  are   in  motion. 

The  signal  rocket  uncouples  thousands  upon 
thousands  of  fellow  rockets;  the  air  is  on  fire 
with  them  as  they  blaze  aloft  In  mighty  arcs, 
to    fall   and   explode    among   the   hunting-shirt 


men. 


Toys  for  children,  boys,"  cries  the  Gen- 
eral, as  he  observes  the  hunting-shirt  men 
watching  the  flaming  shower  with  curious, 
non-understanding  eyes;  "toys  for  children! 
They'll  hurt  no  one!" 

The  General  is  right.  Those  congreve  rock- 
ets are  supposed  to  be  as  deadly  as  artillery. 
Like  many  another  commodity  of  war,  how- 
ever,   meant    primarily    to    fatten    contractors, 

201 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

they  prove  as  Innocuous  as  so  many  huge  fire- 
flies. The  hunting-shirt  men  laugh  at  them. 
The  battery  of  eighteen-pounders,  wherewith 
the  English  second  that  flight  of  rockets,  Is  a 
more  serious  affair. 

As  the  sun  shoots  up  above  the  cypress 
swamp  and  rolls  back  the  mists  of  morning, 
the  English  make  a  gallant  picture.  The  dull 
yellow  of  the  stubble  In  front  of  the  General's 
line  Is  gay  with  splotches  of  red  and  gray  and 
green  and  tartan,  the  colors  of  the  various  Eng- 
lish corps. 

The  hunting-shirt  men,  however,  are  not 
given  much  space  for  admiration ;  for,  with  one 
grand  crash,  the  big  guns  go  into  action  and 
the  red-green-gray-tartan  picture  Is  swallowed 
up  in  powder  smoke.  Also,  It  Is  now  that  Papa 
Plauche's  band  blares  forth  "  Yankee  Doodle," 
while  those  anticipatory  hot  shot  set  fire  to 
the  plantation  buildings.  As  the  latter  burst 
out  at  door  and  window  In  smoke  and  flames. 
Colonel  Rennie  and  his  riflemen  are  driven 
into  the  open.  The  conflagration  gets  much 
in  the  English  way,  and  spoils  the  drill-room 
nicety  of  Sir  Edward's  onset  as  he  has  It 
planned. 

Colonel  Rennie,  being  capable  of  brisk  de- 

202 


THE    EIGHTH    OF    JANUARY 

cision,  makes  the  best  of  a  disconcerting  situa- 
tion. When  the  flames  and  smoke  from  those 
fired  plantation  buildings  drive  him  Into  the 
open  before  he  Is  ready,  he  promptly  orders 
a  charge.  This  his  riflemen  obey;  for  the  In- 
exorable Patterson,  across  the  river,  Is  already 
upon  them  with  those  elghteen-pounders,  and 
his  solid  shot  are  mowing  ghastly  swaths  through 
the  rifle-green  ranks,  tossing  dead  men  In  the 
air  like  old  bags.  With  so  little  inducement 
to  stand  still,  the  riflemen  hail  that  word  to 
charge  as  a  relief,  and  head  for  the  General's 
mud  walls  at  double  quick. 

The  oncoming  Colonel  Rennle  and  his  Eng- 
lish are  met  full  In  the  face  by  a  tempest  of 
grape,  from  Major  Humphrey  and  the  pirates 
Dominique  and  Bluche,  which  throws  them 
backward  upon  themselves.  They  bunch  up 
and  clot  Into  lumps  of  disorder,  like  clumps  of 
demoralized  sheep  In  rifle-green.  At  that, 
Commodore  Patterson  serves  his  elghteen- 
pounders  with  multiplied  speed,  and  the  great 
balls  tear  those  sheep-clumps  to  pieces,  stain- 
ing with  crimson  the  rifle-green.  The  English 
marvel  at  the  artillery  work  of  the  General's 
men,  whose  every  shot  comes  on,  well  aimed 
and  low,  bringing  death  In  its  whistling  wake. 

203 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

They  should  reflect:  The  theory,  not  to  say  the 
eye,  which  alms  a  squirrel  rifle  will  point  a 
cannon. 

Colonel  Rennie,  when  his  English  recoil, 
keeps  on — face  red  with  grief  and  rage. 

"  It's  my  time  to  die!  "  says  he  to  Captain 
Henry.  "  But  before  I  die,  I  shall  at  least  see 
the  inside  of  those  mud  walls." 

Colonel  Rennie  is  wrong.  A  bullet  finds  his 
brain  as  he  lifts  his  head  above  the  breastworks, 
and  he  slips  back  dead  in  the  ditch  outside. 
Major  King  and  Captain  Henry  die  with  him, 
pierced  each  by  a  handful  of  bullets. 

When  the  English  flinch  and  Colonel  Ren- 
nie falls,  the  bugler — a  boy  of  fourteen — 
climbs  a  tree,  not  one  hundred  yards  from  the 
General's  line.  Perched  among  the  branches, 
he  sounds  his  dauntless  charges.  The  General 
gives  orders  to  let  the  boy  alone.  And  so  the 
little  bugler,  protected  by  the  word  of  the 
General,  sings  his  shrill  onsets  to  the  last. 

Finally  an  artillery-man  goes  out  to  him. 

"  Come  down,  my  son !  "  says  the  cannoneer. 
"  The  war's  about  over!  " 

The  little  bugler  comes  down,  and  is  at  once 
taken  to  the  fatherly  heart  of  Papa  Plauche,  who 
declares  him  to  be  a  sucking  Hector,  and  is  for 

204 


THE    EIGHTH    OF    JANUARY 

adopting  him  as  his  son  on  the  spot,  but  is 
restrained  by  thoughts  of  Madam  Plauche. 

Sir  Edward's  main  assault,  with  General 
Gibbs,  meets  no  fairer  fortune  than  falls  to 
Colonel  Rennie  by  the  river.  Confusion  pre- 
vails on  the  threshold  of  the  movement;  for 
Colonel  Mullins  with  his  Forty-fourth  refuses 
to  go  forward.  Later  he  will  be  courtmartialed, 
and  dismissed  in  disgrace.  Just  now,  how- 
ever, the  recreant  makes  a  shameful  tangle  of 
the  English  van.  As  a  quickest  method  of  set- 
ting the  tangle  straight,  General  Gibbs,  as  did 
Colonel  Rennie,  orders  a  charge.  The  column 
moves  forward,  the  mutinous  Forty-fourth  on 
the  right  flank,  led  by  its  major. 

General  Gibbs  advances,  brushing  with  the 
shoulder  of  his  corps,  the  cypress  swamp.  Be- 
hind the  mud  walls  in  his  front,  the  steady 
hunting-shirt  men  are  waiting.  The  General 
is  there,  to  give  the  latter  patience  and  hold 
them  in  even  check. 

"  Easy,  boys!  "  he  cries.  "  Remember  your 
ranges !  Don't  fire  until  they  are  within  two 
hundred  yards!  " 

On  rush  the  English.  At  six  hundred  yards 
they  are  met  by  the  fire  of  the  artillery.  They 
heed  it  not,  but  press  sullenly  forward,  closing 

205 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

up  the  gaps  In  their  ranks,  where  the  solid  shot 
go  crashing  through,  as  fast  as  made.  Five 
hundred  yards,  four  hundred,  three  hundred! 
Still  they  come !     Two  hundred  yards ! 

And  now  the  hunting-shirt  men!  A  line  of 
fire  unending  glances  from  right  to  left  and  left 
to  right,  along  the  crest  of  those  mud  walls, 
and  Death  begins  his  reaping.  The  head  of 
the  English  column  burns  away,  as  though 
thrust  into  a  furnace!  The  column  wavers 
and  welters  like  a  red  ship  in  a  murky  sea  of 
smoke !  It  pauses,  falteringly  —  disdaining  to 
fly,  yet  unable  to  advance! 

"Forward,  men!"  shouts  General  Gibbs. 
"  This  is  the  way  you  should  go !  " 

As  he  points  with  his  sword  to  those  terrible 
mud  walls,  he  falls  riddled  by  the  hunting-shirt 
men. 


XVII 

THE   SLAUGHTER    AMONG   THE 

STUBBLE 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE    SLAUGHTER   AMONG   THE    STUBBLE 

WHEN  the  main  advance  begins,  Sir 
Edward  is  in  the  center  with  the 
Highlanders.  The  latter  are  not 
to  move  until  he  has  word  of  their  success  from 
General  Keane  with  Rennie's  rifle  corps,  and 
General  Gibbs  with  the  main  column — the  one 
by  the  river  and  the  other  by  the  cypress 
swamp.  He  has  not  long  to  wait;  a  courier 
dashes  up  from  the  river — eye  haggard,  dis- 
order in  his  look! 

"General  Keane?"  cries  Sir  Edward,  his 
apprehension  on  edge. 

"  Fallen !  "  returns  the  courier  hoarsely. 

"And  Rennie?" 

"  Dead.     The  Rifles  are  in  full  retreat!  " 

Sir  Edward  stands  like  one  stricken.  Then 
he  pulls  himself  together. 

"  Bring  on  your  Highlanders !  "  he  cries 
to  Colonel  Dale.     "  We  must  force  their  lines 

209 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

in    front   of   General   GIbbs.      It    Is   our   only 
chance !  " 

Sir  Edward  dashes  across  to  General  GIbbs, 
In  the  shadow  of  that  significant  cypress  swamp. 
He  sees  General  GIbbs  go  down !  He  sees 
the  red  column  torn  and  twisted  by  that 
storm  of  lead  which  the  huntlng-shirt  men 
unloose. 

As  the  English  reel  away  from  those  low- 
flying  messengers  of  death,  Sir  Edward  seeks  to 
rally  them. 

"Are  you  Englishmen?"  he  cries.  "Have 
you  but  marched  upon  a  battlefield  to  stain  the 
glory  of  your  flag?  " 

Sir  Edward's  gesticulating  arm  falls,  smashed 
by  a  bullet  from  some  sharp-shooting  huntlng- 
shlrt  man.  He  seems  not  to  know  his  hurt! 
He  Is  on  fire  with  the  thought  that  those  hon- 
ors, won  upon  forty  fields,  are  to  be  wrested 
from  him  by  a  "  Copper  Captain,"  backed  by  a 
mob  of  peasants  In  buckskin !  He  rushes  among 
the  shaken  English  to  check  the  panic  which  Is 
seizing  them ! 

The  Highlanders  come  up ! 

"Hurrah!  brave  Highlanders!"  he  shouts. 

At  Sir  Edward's  welcoming  shout,  Colonel 
Dale  waves  a  salute !     It  is  his  last;  the  huntlng- 

2IO 


AMONG     THE     STUBBLE 

shirt  men  are  upon  him  with  those  unerring 
rifles,  and  he  falls  dead  before  his  General's 
eyes.  Coincident  with  the  fall  of  his  beloved 
Dale,  Sir  Edward  Is  struck  by  a  second  bullet. 
It  enters  near  the  heart.  As  his  aide  catches 
him  In  his  arms,  he  beckons  feebly  to  Sir  John 
Tylden. 

"Call  up  Lambert  with  the  reserves!"  he 
whispers. 

As  he  lies  supported  in  the  arms  of  his  aide, 
a  third  bullet  puffs  out  his  lamp  of  life,  and 
England  loses  a  second  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 

The  main  column  falls  Into  renewed  disor- 
der! It  begins  to  retreat;  the  retreat  becomes 
a  rout!  Only  the  Highlanders  stay!  They 
cannot  go  forward;  they  will  not  go  back! 
There  they  stand  rooted,  until  five  hundred  and 
forty  of  their  nine  hundred  and  fifty  are  shot 
down. 

As  the  main  column  breaks,  Major  Wilkin- 
son turns  to  Lieutenant  Lavack. 

"  This  is  too  much  disgrace  to  take  home !  " 
says  he. 

Like  Colonel  Rennie,  a  mile  away  by  the 
river.  Major  Wilkinson  charges  the  mud  walls. 
Lieutenant  Lavack,  sharing  his  feelings,  shares 
with     him     that     desperate,     disgrace-defying 

211 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

charge.  Through  the  singing,  droning  "  zip ! 
zip!"  of  the  bullets,  they  press  on!  They 
reach  the  ditch,  and  splash  through!  Up  the 
mud  walls  they  swarm !  Major  Wilkinson 
falls  inside,  dead,  three  times  shot  through  and 
through!  Lieutenant  Lavack,  with  a  luck  that 
is  like  a  charm,  lands  in  the  midst  of  the 
hunting-shirt  men  without  a  scratch !  They  re- 
ceive him  hilariously,  offer  whisky  and  compli- 
ments, and  assure  him  that  they  like  his  style. 
Lieutenant  Lavack  accepts  the  whisky  and  the 
compliments,  and  gains  distinction  as  the  one 
live  Englishman  over  the  General's  mud  walls 
this  January  day. 

The  field  is  swept  of  hostile  English;  all  is 
silent  in  front,  and  not  a  shot  is  heard.  Now 
when  the  firing  is  wholly  on  one  side,  the  Gen- 
eral passes  the  word  for  the  hunting-shirt  men 
to  cease. 

The  hard-working  Coffee  comes  up,  face 
a-smudge  of  powder  stains;  for  he  has  been 
taking  his  turn  with  a  rifle,  like  any  other  hunt- 
ing-shirt man.  He  finds  the  General  as  drunk 
on  battle  as  some  folk  are  on  brandy. 

"  They  can't  beat  us,  Coffee !  "  cries  the 
General,  wringing  his  friend's  big  hand.  "  By 
the  living  Eternal  they  can't  beat  us !  " 

212 


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AMONG     THE     STUBBLE 

The  General  unsllngs  his  ramshackle  tele- 
scope, and  leaps  upon  the  mud  walls  for  a 
survey  of  the  field.  The  less  curious  Coffee  de- 
votes himself  to  wiping  the  sweat  and  powder 
smudges  from  his  face.  His  Impromptu  toilet 
results  only  In  unhappy  smears,  which  make 
him  resemble  an  overgrown  sweep.  He  looks 
at  his  watch. 

"Sharp,  short  work!"  he  mutters,  as  he 
notes  that  they  have  been  fighting  but  twenty- 
five  minutes. 

Those  plantation  buildings  are  still  blazing, 
no  more  than  half-burned  down,  and  the  smoke 
hides  the  scene  toward  the  river.  The  General 
turns  his  ramshackle  spyglass  upon  his  Imme- 
diate front.  The  ground  Is  fairly  carpeted 
with  dead  English.  As  he  gazes  he  calls  to 
Colonel  Coffee,  who  Is  now  broadening  the 
powder  smears  Ingeniously  with  the  sleeve  of 
his  hunting  shirt. 

"  Jump  up  here,  Coffee !  "  cries  the  General. 
''  It's  like  resurrection  day!  " 

Thus  urged,  Colonel  Coffee  abandons  his  at- 
tempts to  Improve  his  looks,  and  joins  the  Gen- 
eral on  the  mud  walls.  He  Is  In  time  to  be- 
hold four  hundred  odd  Highlanders  scramble 
to  their  brogues  among  those  five  hundred  and 

213 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

forty  who  will  never  march  again,  and  come 
forward  to  surrender. 

It  has  been  a  hot  and  bloody  morning. 
Of  those  six  thousand  whom  Sir  Edward 
takes  Into  action — for  the  reserves  with  Gen- 
eral Lambert  are  never  within  range — over 
twenty-one  hundred  are  fallen.  Seven  hundred 
and  thirty  are  killed  as  they  stand  in  their 
ranks;  and  of  the  fourteen  hundred  marked 
"  wounded,"  more  than  six  hundred  are  to  die 
within  the  week.  Among  the  twenty-one  hun- 
dred killed  and  wounded,  sixteen  hundred  go 
to  swell  the  red  record  of  the  dire  huntlng-shirt 
men. 

The  two  attacks,  being  at  the  ends  of  the 
General's  lines.  Involve  no  more  than  two-thirds 
of  his  thirty-two  hundred.  Papa  Plauche's 
"  Fathers  "  In  the  center,  as  well  as  General 
Adair's  Kentucklans  who  act  as  reserves,  are 
merest  spectators. 

That  his  ''  Fathers  "  are  not  called  upon  to 
fire  a  shot,  In  no  wise  depresses  Papa  Plauche. 
He  harangues  his  brave  followers,  and  elo- 
quently explains : 

"  It  Is  because  of  your  sanguinary  fame,  my 
heroes!"  vociferates  Papa  Plauche.  "The 
English  knew  your  position,  and  avoided  you. 

214 


AMONG     THE     STUBBLE 

They  went  as  far  to  the  right  and  to  the  left 
as  they  could,  to  escape  that  destruction  you  else 
would  have  Infallibly  meted  out  to  them.  Ah! 
my  *  Fathers/  see  what  It  Is  to  have  a  ter- 
rible name !  You  must  sit  Idle  In  battle,  because 
no  foe  dare  engage  you !  Be  comforted,  my 
glorious  heroes!  Achilles  could  have  done  no 
more !  " 

Colonel  Coffee,  still  busy  with  the  powder 
smears,  calls  the  General's  attention  to  an  Eng- 
lish group  of  three,  made  up  of  a  colonel,  a 
bugler,  and  a  soldier  bearing  a  white  flag.  The 
trio  halt  six  hundred  respectful  yards  away. 
The  bugler  sounds  a  fanfare ;  the  soldier  waves 
his  white  flag. 

The  General  dispatches  Colonel  Butler  with 
two  captains  to  receive  their  message.  It  Is  a 
note  signed  "  Lambert,"  asking  an  armistice  of 
twenty-four  hours  to  bury  the  dead. 

"Who  Is  Lambert?"  asks  the  General,  and 
sends  to  the  English  colonel,  with  his  bugler 
and  white  flag,  to  find  out. 

The  three  presently  return;  this  time  the 
note  Is  signed  "  John  Lambert,  Commander-in- 
Chief."  The  alteration  proves  to  the  General's 
liking,  and  the  armistice  Is  arranged. 

The  seven  hundred  and  thirty  dead  English 
15  215 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

are  buried  where  they  fell.  Thereafter  the 
superstitious  blacks  will  defy  lash  and  torture 
rather  than  plow  the  land  where  they  lie.  It 
will  raise  no  more  sugar  cane;  but  In  time  a 
cypress  grove  will  sorrowfully  cover  It,  as 
though  in  mournful  memory  of  those  who  sleep 
beneath.  The  General  carries  his  own  dead  to 
the  city.  They  are  not  many,  four  dead  and 
four  wounded  being  the  limit  of  his  loss. 

General  Lambert  and  the  beaten  English  go 
wallowing,  hip-deep,  through  the  swamps  to 
their  boats.  They  will  not  fight  again.  The 
booming  of  the  batteries,  or  mayhap  the  un- 
usual warmth  of  the  sun,  has  roused  from  their 
winter  beds  a  scaly  host  of  alligators.  These 
saurians  uplift  their  hideous  heads  and  gaze 
sleepily,  yet  Inquisitively,  at  the  wallowing  re- 
treating English.  Now  and  then  one  widely 
yawns,  and  the  spectacle  sends  an  Icy  thrill 
along  what  English  spines  bear  witness  to  It. 

In  the  end  the  beaten  English  are  all 
departed.  That  tremendous  invasion  which, 
with  "  Beauty  and  Booty!  "  for  Its  cry,  sailed 
out  of  Negrll  Bay  six  weeks  before  to  the  sack 
of  New  Orleans,  is  abandoned,  and  the  last  de- 
feated man  jack  once  more  aboard  the  ships 
and  mighty  glad  to  be  there.     The  fleet  sails 

216 


AMONG     THE     STUBBLE 

r 

south  and  east;  but  not  until  the  tallest  ship  Is 
hull  down  In  the  horizon  does  the  General 
march  Into  New  Orleans. 

The  General  cannot  bring  himself  to  believe 
that  the  retreat  of  the  English  Is  genuine. 
They  have  still,  as  they  sail  away,  full  thirteen 
thousand  fighting  men  aboard  those  ships,  with 
a  round  one  thousand  cannon,  and  munitions 
and  provisions  for  a  year's  campaign.  He 
judges  them  by  himself,  and  will  not  be  con- 
vinced that  they  have  fled.  With  this  on  his 
mind,  he  plants  his  pickets  far  and  wide,  and 
insists  on  double  vigilance. 

Now  when  fear  of  the  English  is  rolled 
like  a  stone  from  their  breasts,  the  folk  of  New 
Orleans  fret  under  the  General's  Iron  rule. 
With  that  the  prudent  General  tightens  his 
grip.  Even  so  excellent  a  soldier  as  Papa 
Plauche  complains.  He  says  that  the  hearts  of 
the  "  Fathers  of  Families  "  are  bursting  with 
victory.  His  valiant  "  Fathers  "  burn  to  ex- 
press their  joy. 

The  General  suggests  that  the  joy-swollen 
"  Fathers  "  repair  to  the  Cathedral,  and  hear 
the  Abbe  Duborg  conduct  a  Te  Deum. 

Papa  Plauche  points  out  that,  while  a  Te 
Deum  is  all  very  well  in  its  way,  it  is  a  rite  and 

217 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

not  a  festival.    What  his  "  Fathers  " — who  are 
thunderbolts  of  war! — desire  Is  to  give  a  ball. 

The  General  says  that  he  has  no  objections  to 
the  ball. 

Papa  Plauche  explains  that  a  ball  Is  not  pos- 
sible, with  the  city  held  fast  In  the  controlling 
colls  of  military  law.  The  rule  that  all  lights 
must  be  out  at  nine  o'clock,  of  Itself  forbids 
a  ball.  As  affairs  stand  the  "  Fathers  "  are 
helpless  In  their  happiness.  No  one  may  dance 
by  daylight;  that  would  be  too  fantastic,  too 
bizarre !  And  yet  who,  pray,  can  rejoice  In  the 
dark?  It  Is  against  human  nature,  argues  Papa 
Plauche. 

The  General  refuses  to  be  moved;  but  con- 
tinues to  hold  the  city  In  his  unrelenting  clutch 
— maintaining  the  while  a  wary  eye  for  sly  re- 
turning English,  with  an  occasional  glance  at 
the  local  treason  which  Is  simmering  about  him. 

The  public  murmur  grows  louder  and 
deeper.  A  rumor  of  the  peace  comes  ashore, 
no  one  knows  how.  The  General  refuses  the 
rumor,  fearing  an  English  ruse  to  throw  him 
off  his  guard.  At  the  peace  whisper,  the  popu- 
lar discontent  Increases.  The  General,  In  the 
teeth  of  It,  remains  unchanged. 

Citizen    Hollander    expresses    himself    with 

218 


AMONG     THE     STUBBLE 

more  heat  than  prudence.  The  General  locks 
up  the  vituperative  Citizen  Hollander.  M. 
Toussand,  Consul  for  France,  considers  such  ac- 
tion high-handed;  and  says  so.  The  General 
marches  Consul  Toussand  out  of  town,  with  a 
brace  of  bayonets  at  the  consular  back.  Leg- 
islator Louaillier  protests  against  the  casting 
out  of  Consul  Toussand.  The  General  con- 
signs the  protesting  Legislator  Louaillier  to  a 
cell  in  the  calaboose.  Jurist  Hall  of  the  Dis- 
trict Court  issues  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus  for 
the  relief  and  release  of  the  captive  Louaillier. 
The  General  responds  by  arresting  Jurist  Hall, 
who  is  given  a  cell  betw^een  captives  Louaillier 
and  Hollander,  where  by  raising  his  voice  he 
may  condole  with  them  through  the  intervening 
stone  walls. 

Thus  are  affairs  arranged  when  official  notice 
of  the  peace  reaches  the  General  from  Wash- 
ington. Instantly  he  w^ithdraws  his  grip  from 
the  city,  restores  the  civil  rule,  and  releases 
from  captivity  Jurist  Hall,  Citizen  Hollander, 
and  Legislator  Louaillier. 

Upon  the  disappearance  of  martial  law. 
Papa  Plauche,  with  his  immortal  "  Fathers  of 
Families,"  gives  that  ball  of  victory,  the  exiled 
Consul  Toussand  creeps  back  into  town,  while 

219 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

Jurist  Hall  signalizes  his  restoration  to  the 
woolsack  by  fining  the  General  one  thousand 
dollars  for  contempt  of  court — which  he  pays. 

The  Legislature,  guards  withdrawn  from  its 
treasonable  doors,  expands  into  lawmaking. 
Its  earliest  action  is  a  resolution  of  thanks  for 
their  brave  defense  of  the  city  to  officers 
Coffee,  Carroll,  Hinds,  Adair,  and  Patterson. 
The  Legislature  pointedly  does  not  thank  the 
General,  who  grins  dryly. 

Colonel  Coffee,  upon  receiving  the  vote  of 
thanks,  writes  a  letter  of  acknowledgment,  in 
which  he  intimates  his  opinions  of  the  General, 
the  Legislature,  and  himself.  This  missive  is 
a  remarkable  outburst  on  the  part  of  Colonel 
Coffee,  who  fights  more  easily  than  he  writes, 
and  shows  how  he  is  stirred  to  his  hunting-shirt 
depths. 

Through  the  clouds  of  pestiferous  jurists  and 
treason-hatching  legislators  descends  a  grand 
burst  of  sunshine.  The  blooming  Rachel,  as 
unlooked  for  as  an  angel,  joins  her  gaunt  hero 
in  New  Orleans,  and  the  General  forgets  alike 
his  triumphs  and  his  troubles. 

Papa  Plauche — foremdst  in  peace  as  in  war 
— at  once  seizes  on  the  advent  of  the  blooming 
Rachel  to  give  another  ball.     The  whole  city 

220 


AMONG     THE     STUBBLE 

attends  the  function;  the  heroic  "Fathers"  in 
full  panoply  and  very  splendid.  The  band 
plays  "  'Possum  up  a  Gum  Tree,"  in  the  execu- 
tion whereof  it  soars  to  vanest  heights. 

Papa  Plauche  dances  with  the  blooming 
Rachel.  The  General  unbuckles  in  certain  in- 
tricate breakdowns,  with  which  he  challenged 
admiration  in  those  days  long  ago  w^hen  he  was 
the  beau  of  old  Salisbury  and  read  law  with 
Spruce  McCay.  The  "  Fathers  "  are  not  only 
edified  but  excited  by  the  General's  dancing; 
for  he  dances  as  he  fights,  violently. 

Colonel  Coffee,  not  being  a  dancing  man, 
goes  looking  about  him.  He  discovers  a  flower- 
piece,  prepared  by  Papa  Plauche,  that  is  like  unto 
a  piece  of  flattery,  and  spells  "  Jackson  and 
Victory!  "  in  deepest  red  and  green.  He  shows 
It  to  the  General,  who  suggests  that  If  Papa 
Plauche  had  made  it  "  Hickory  and  Victory!  " 
It  would  mean  the  same,  and  save  the  euphony. 

V^hile  the  blooming  Rachel,  the  General, 
the  non-dancing  Coffee,  and  the  ardent  Papa 
Plauche,  with  the  beauty  and  chivalry  of  New 
Orleans  about  them,  are  at  the  ball,  Colonel 
Burr,  gray  and  bent  and  cynical.  Is  talking  with 
his  friend  Swartwout  in   far-away  New  York. 

"  It  was  a   glorious,   a  most  convincing  vic- 

221 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

tory!"  exclaims  Mr.  Swartwout.  "President 
Madison  cannot  do  the  General  too  much 
honor.    He  has  saved  the  country!  " 

"  He  has  saved,"  returns  the  ironical  Colonel 
Burr,  "  what  President  Madison  holds  in  much 
greater  esteem.  He  has  saved  the  Madison  ad- 
ministration!  " 


XVIII 
ODDS    AND    ENDS    OF    TIME 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

ODDS   AND    ENDS    OF   TIME 

THE  General,  the  blooming  Rachel  by 
his  side,  takes  up  his  homeward 
journey.  Now  when  they  are  on 
their  way  and  a  world  has  time  to  observe 
them,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  changes  have  be- 
fallen with  the  lengthened  flight  of  time.  The 
eye  of  the  blooming  Rachel  is  as  liquidly  black 
and  deep,  her  hair  as  raven-blue,  her  cheek  as 
round  as  on  a  rearward  day  when  she  won  the 
heart  of  that  bottle-green  beau  from  old  Salis- 
bury. The  alteration  is  in  her  form,  which  has 
grown  plump  and  full  and  stout  in  these  her 
matronly  middle  years.  As  to  the  bottle-green 
beau,  his  sandy  hair  is  deeply  shot  with  iron- 
gray,  while  his  features  show  haggard,  and 
seamed  of  care.  To  the  inquiring  eye  he  looks 
at  once  dangerous  and  rusty,  like  an  old  sword. 
His  form,  always  spare,  is  more  emaciated  than 
ever.  The  last  is  due  in  part  to  those  Benton 
bullets,    and  the   Dickinson   shot  fired   in   that 

225 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

poplar,  May-sweet  wood  on  a  certain  Kentucky 
morning.  Besides,  one  Is  not  to  forget  those 
southern  swamps,  which  have  never  had  fame 
for  building  a  man  up.  As  the  General,  with 
his  blooming  Rachel,  draws  near  home,  the 
whole  Cumberland  country  rushes  forth  to 
greet  him. 

From  that  earliest  day  when  Time  began 
swinging  his  scythe  In  the  meadows  of  hu- 
manity, mankind  has  owned  but  two  ways  of 
honoring  a  hero.  One  Is  the  "  parade,"  the 
other  Is  the  "  dinner."  In  the  one  Instance, 
half  the  people  march  In  the  middle  of  the 
street,  while  the  remaining  half  line  the  curbs 
and  look  on.  In  the  other,  which  has  the 
merit  of  exclusion,  a  select  great  few  set  a  board 
with  meat  and  drink;  and  then.  Installing  the 
hero  where  all  may  see,  they  bombard  him 
with  toasts  and  speeches  and  applause.  All  at- 
tend the  "  parade  "  since  It  Is  free.  Few  avoid 
the  dinner,  because,  besides  the  honor  and  the 
honoring.  It  affords  lawful  occasion  for  being 
drunk — a  manifest  advantage  to  many  In  a 
strait-laced  community.  The  General  when  he 
arrives  In  Nashville  Is  exhaustively  "  paraded  " 
and  deeply  "  dined."    Also  he  Is  given  a  sword. 

Now,  having  been  "  paraded  "  and  "  dined," 

226 


^J^^§^^t^^^#^ 


Andrew  Jackson 
From  a  painting  by  R.  E.   W.  Earl. 


ODDS     AND     ENDS     OF    TIME 

and  with  honors  thick  upon  him,  the  General 
sets  about  his  duties  as  a  major  general  in  days 
of  peace.  General  Adair  and  he  have  a  letter- 
quarrel  concerning  the  courage  of  Kentuckians. 
General  Scott  and  he  have  a  letter-quarrel  on 
grounds  more  personal.  As  the  upshot  of  the 
latter  correspondence,  the  General  evinces  an 
eagerness  to  shoot  his  over-epauletted  opponent 
at  ten  paces,  oiling  up  the  saw-handles  to  that 
hopeful  end,  but  is  balked  by  the  over-epauletted 
one,  who  declines  on  grounds  of  piety  and  pa- 
triotism. 

While  the  General  is  fuming  with  ink  and 
paper  against  those  distinguished  warriors,  he 
cools  at  intervals  sufficiently  to  build  the  bloom- 
ing Rachel  a  little  church.  The  blooming 
Rachel  Is  a  devout  Presbyterian;  and,  while  the 
General  is  far  too  busy  with  this  world  to 
think  much  on  the  next,  she  prevails  with  him 
— for  he  never  says  "  No  "  to  her — to  put  her 
up  a  church.  It  Is  not  much  bigger  than  a  dry- 
goods  box;  but  there  are  forty  pews,  besides  a 
pulpit  for  Parson  Blackburn,  and  the  blooming 
Rachel  Is  supremely  happy.  She  owns  to  some 
Illogical  impression  that,  should  the  General 
build  a  church,  he'll  "  join."  In  this  she  goes 
wrong;  for  the  General  only  builds. 

227 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

The  General  mounts  his  horse,  and  rides 
to  Washington.  He  meets  Mr.  Jefferson  in 
Lynchburg,  and  that  aged  fine  gentleman  and 
maker  of  constitutions  is  struck  by  the  graceful 
manners  of  the  General,  who  has  become  all 
ease  and  polish  where  once  he  was  as  rough  as 
a  woods'  colt.  In  Washington  he  is  much  feted 
and  feasted,  and  the  trump  of  celebration  is 
tireless  to  sound  his  name.  He  gets  back  home 
in  time  to  put  a  roof  on  the  blooming  RachePs 
almost  finished  church,  and  listen  to  Parson 
Blackburn's  dedicatory  sermon. 

The  Red  Stick  Creeks  from  across  the  Flori- 
da line  take  to  marauding  and  murdering  in 
Southern  Georgia,  and  the  General  decides  to 
see  about  it.  He  sends  an  officer,  with  a  force 
of  men,  to  reduce  Negro  Fort  on  the  Ap- 
palachicola.  In  giving  that  officer  his  instruc- 
tions, the  General  expands  touching  the  military 
virtues  of  red-hot  shots;  and  with  such  satis- 
factory results  that  the  first  one  fired  at  Ne- 
gro Fort  blows  it  to  ruins,  and  with  it  three 
hundred  and  thirty-one  of  the  three  hundred 
and  thirty-four  blacks  and  reds  who  infest  it. 
Three  crawl  from  the  blazing  chaos,  to  be 
hilariously  knocked  on  the  head  by  friendly 
Creeks,  who  have  attended  the  expedition  with 

228 


ODDS    AND     ENDS     OF    TIME 

that  fond  hope  and  purpose.  The  world  Is 
much  rejoiced  at  the  demolition  of  Negro  Fort; 
since  murder  and  pillage  have  been  the  one 
business  of  Its  robber  garrison,  and  the  fire- 
torture  of  prisoners  their  one  amusement. 

The  General  presently  appears  at  the  head 
of  his  hunting-shirt  men,  and  destroys  the  vil- 
lage of  Chief  Billy  Bowlegs  on  the  oft-sung 
Suwannee  River.  Then  he  takes  St.  Marks 
from  the  feeble  Spaniards,  and  arrests  a  brace 
of  conspiring  English,  Ambrister  and  Arbuth- 
not.  The  arrested  ones  have  come  across  from 
the  Bahamas,  bringing  English  guns  and  lead 
and  powder  and  promises  to  the  hostile  blacks 
and  reds;  and  all  in  accordance  with  that  policy, 
dear  to  England,  of  preferring  bloodshed  by 
proxy  to  shedding  blood  herself.  The  General 
hangs  conspirator  Arbuthnot,  and  shoots  con- 
spirator Ambrister;  while  England,  In  accord- 
ance with  a  second  policy  as  dear  as  the  first, 
disavows  them  both. 

The  General  goes  on  to  Pensacola.  Here  he 
hauls  down  the  flag  of  Spain,  runs  up  the  stars 
and  stripes,  drives  out  the  Spanish  Governor, 
and  Installs  one  of  his  own  with  a  garrison  to 
back  him.  Having  executed  conspirators  Am- 
brister and  Arbuthnot,  he  now  seizes  on  two 

229 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

Creek-Semlnole  chiefs  and  hangs  them,  to  pre- 
serve, so  to  speak,  a  racial  equilibrium.  Hav- 
ing thus  wound  up  the  Spanish,  the  English, 
the  negroes  and  the  Indians  In  Florida,  the 
General  returns  to  his  home,  serene  In  the  sense 
of  duty  well  performed. 

The  General's  serenity  is  misplaced;  trouble 
breaks  out  In  Washington.  Mr.  Monroe  Is 
President,  and  Statesmen  Clay  and  Crawford 
and  Calhoun  and  Adams  desire  to  be.  The 
quartette  last  named  suspect  in  the  General — 
about  whom  a  responsive  public  Is  running 
mad — a  growing  rival.  They  decide  to  cripple 
him  In  the  very  cradle  of  his  White  House 
prospects.  If  they  do  not  he  may  grow  up  to 
snatch  from  them  the  crown.  Moved  of  this 
high  thought,  they  charge  the  General  with 
waging  unauthorized  war;  and  with  invading 
Spanish  territory,  we  at  peace  with  Spain. 
They  call  him  a  "  murderer  "  for  snuffing  out 
conspirators  Ambrlster  and  Arbuthnot  and  those 
superfluous  Creek-Semlnole  chiefs.  Also,  giv- 
ing a  moral  snuflle,  they  demand  that  he  be 
courtmartlaled  and  cashiered. 

President  Monroe  shakes  his  head  at  the 
conniving  quartette,  replying  as  on  a  somewhat 
similar  occasion  did  the  Russian  Catherine: 

230 


ODDS     AND     ENDS     OF    TIME 

"  We  never  punish  conquerors. 

The  General  by  the  Cumberland  hears  of 
these  weird  doings  in  Washington,  and  again 
rides  over  the  mountains.  His  object  is  to  dis- 
cover, by  personal  observation,  who  in  his  case 
are  the  sheep  and  who  the  goats,  and  separate 
in  his  own  mind  his  friends  from  his  enemies. 
Upon  his  arrival  the  General  finds  himself  an 
Issue  of  politics.  As  such  he  is  voted  upon  by 
Congress,  which  affirms  heavily  in  his  favor. 
The  people  have  long  ago  decided  in  his  favor; 
and  Congress,  ever  quick  to  locate  the  butter  on 
its  bread,  sharply  follows  the  popular  example. 
Statesman  Clay  and  others  among  the  General's 
foes  express  themselves  freely  to  his  disadvan- 
tage. However,  the  General  expresses  himself 
freely  to  their  disadvantage,  and  profound 
judges  of  vituperation  say  that  he  has  the  sul- 
phurous best  of  the  exchange. 

Being  upheld  by  Congress,  and  having  freed 
his  mind  touching  his  foes,  the  General  goes  to 
Baltimore  and  Philadelphia,  and  is  extrava- 
gantly wined  and  dined.  Then  he  proceeds  to 
New  York,  where  Fitz  Greene  Halleck  and 
Joseph  Rodman  Drake  write  doggerel  at  him 
In  the  Evening  Post;  and  where,  also,  he  Is 
"  paraded  "  and  "  dinner  "-honored  to  a  degree 
16  231 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

which  lays  all  former  "  parading  "  and  "  din- 
ner "-honoring,  by  less  fervent  communities, 
deep  within  the  shade. 

Spain  cedes  Florida  to  the  United  States ;  just 
as  she  would  cede  a  bad  hot  penny  that,  besides 
being  worthless,  is  burning  her  fingers.  The 
President  appoints  the  General  governor  of 
the  new  domain.  Whereupon  the  new  Gov- 
ernor lays  down  his  Major  General's  commis- 
sion, bids  farewell  to  the  army,  and  journeys 
south.  He  does  not  relish  being  Governor; 
and,  after  locking  up  his  Spanish  predecessor 
for  stealing  divers  papers  of  state,  and  expatri- 
ating a  scandalous  bevy  whose  talk  sounds  like 
treason  to  his  sensitive  ear,  he  resigns. 

When  the  General  gets  back  to  the  Cumber- 
land country,  he  finds  that  his  former  quarter- 
master. Major  Lewis,  has  decided  to  send  him 
to  the  White  House.  The  General  is  mightily 
taken  aback,  and  declares  himself  unfit.  Major 
Lewis  retorts  that  he  is  far  more  fit  than  any 
of  his  quartette  of  Washington  enemies,  laying 
especial  emphasis  on  Statesman  Clay.  The  ac- 
curate force  of  the  retort  strikes  the  General 
wordless. 

Major  Lewis  is  rich,  wise,  cunning,  cool, 
college-bred,  and  eighteen  years  younger  than 

232 


ODDS     AND     ENDS     OF    TIME 

the  General.  He  Is  a  born  manager,  a  natural 
wire-puller,  and  can  play  politics  by  ear  as  some 
folk  play  the  fiddle.  Congenitally  a  Warwick, 
he  prefers  making  a  President  to  being  one,  and 
would  sooner  hold  a  baby  than  hold  an  office. 

Major  Lewis  seizes  on  the  General  as  so 
much  raw  material  wherefrom  to  construct  a 
President.  As  a  best  method  of  having  his 
man  on  the  ground,  he  gives  a  hint,  and  the 
Tennessee  Legislature  sends  the  General  to 
Washington  as  Senator.  The  blooming  Ra- 
chel accompanies  him;  they  live  at  a  tavern 
in  Pennsylvania  Avenue  called  the  '*  Indian 
Queen." 

This  caravansary  is  kept  by  one  O'Neal, 
w^ho  has  a  pretty  daughter  Peg.  Later  the 
pretty  Peg  will  dissolve  a  Cabinet,  make  Mr. 
Van  Buren  President,  and  come  within  an 
ace  of  getting  Mr.  Calhoun  hanged.  All 
this,  however,  is  in  the  unplerced  future.  The 
blooming,  childless  Rachel  makes  a  pet  of 
pretty  Peg;  which  rivets  the  latter  forever  In 
the  good  regards  of  the  General,  who  loves 
what  the  blooming  Rachel  loves. 

Major  Lewis  proves  a  wizard  of  politics. 
Under  his  quiet  legerdemain,  here  and  there 
and  everywhere   political   fires  break   forth  In 

233 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

favor  of  the  General.  They  break  forth  In 
North  Carolina,  In  Pennsylvania,  In  New 
York;  and,  so  deft  and  secret  Is  his  work,  none 
suspects  Wizard  Lewis  as  the  Incendiary.  Wiz- 
ard Lewis  Is  counseled  by  Colonel  Burr  who, 
like  some  old  gray  fox,  sits  In  the  mouth  of  his 
New  York  law-burrow  In  Nassau  Street,  peer- 
ing out  at  events  as  they  pass. 

In  these  days,  the  lion-faced  Webster  writes 
his  brother: 

"  His  (the  General's)  manners  are  more 
presidential  than  those  of  any  of  the  candidates. 
He  Is  grave,  mild,  and  reserved.  My  wife  Is 
for  him  decidedly." 

There  are  four  candidates  for  the  White 
House,  vide  licet,  the  General,  and  Statesmen 
Adams  and  Crawford  and  Clay.  The  popular 
vote  falls  In  the  order  given,  with  the  General 
a  long  flight  shot  ahead  of  Statesman  Adams, 
who  Is  next  on  the  list.  And  yet,  while  far  In 
advance  of  the  others,  the  General  Is  without 
that  electoral  majority  required  by  the  Consti- 
tution, and  the  choice  Is  thrown  Into  the  House 
of  Representatives. 

Statesman  Clay  Is  now  out  of  the  running; 
for  the  President  must  be  chosen  from  among 
the   three  candidates   having  the   highest   elec- 

234 


ODDS     AND     ENDS     OF    TIME 

toral  vote,  and  he  is  fourth  and  lowest.  States- 
man Crawford,  who  ranks  third,  is  also  out. 
He  is  stricken  of  paralysis;  and,  while  this 
wins  him  sympathy,  it  loses  him  White  House 
strength.  The  fight  is  to  be  between  the  Gen- 
eral and  Statesman  Adams. 

While  Statesman  Clay  is  out  of  the  coil,  so 
far  as  any  personal  chance  of  becoming  the 
House  selection  is  concerned,  he  is  in  it  de- 
cisively in  another  fashion.  As  a  chief  force  in 
the  House,  he  holds  that  important  body  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hand;  and,  while  he  cannot  be 
its  choice,  he  can  control  its  choice.  He  con- 
trols it  for  Statesman  Adams,  on  the  under- 
ground understanding  that  he.  Statesman  Clay, 
shall  sit  at  Statesman  Adams'  right  hand  as  Sec- 
retary of  State.  Statesman  Clay  hopes  to  run 
presidentially  another  day,  and  thinks  to  make 
his  calling  and  election  sure  while  head  of  the 
Cabinet  of  Statesman  Adams.  As  events  forge 
and  fuse  themselves  in  the  blast  furnaces  of  the 
future,  it  will  be  discovered  that  in  thus  opin- 
ing Statesman  Clay  falls  into  grievous  error. 

It  is  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  the 
Clay-guided  House  counts  Statesman  Adams 
into  a  Presidency.  Five  hours  afterward  the 
General  meets   Statesman  Adams  in  the  East 

235 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

Room,  where  both  are  in  attendance  upon  the 
last  reception  of  outgoing  President  Munroe. 
The  contrast  between  them  tells  In  the  Gen- 
eral's favor.  There  Is  no  gloom  of  disappoint- 
ment on  his  brow,  no  cloud  of  defeat  In  his 
hawkish  blue  eyes.  The  General  has  a  lady  on 
his  arm.  He  greets  Statesman  Adams  grace- 
fully and  extends  his  hand: 

"  How  Is  Mr.  Adams?  "  cries  he.  "  I  give 
you  my  left  hand,  sir,  since  my  right  Is  devoted 
to  the  fair." 

Statesman  Adams  Is  a  diplomat,  and  used  to 
courts  and  salons.  The  General  Is  of  the  wil- 
derness and  Its  battlefields.  And  yet  the  Gen- 
eral shines  out  the  more  polished  of  the  two. 
Statesman  Adams  takes  the  extended  hand;  but 
he  does  It  awkwardly,  backwardly,  and  with  a 
wooden  manner,  as  though  his  deportment  Is 
seized  of  some  sudden,  bashful  stiffness  of  the 
joints.    At  last  he  manages  to  say: 

"  Very  well,  sir!     I  hope  you  are  well!  " 


XIX 

THE    KILLING    EDGE    OF 
SLANDER 


CHAPTER    XIX 

THE    KILLING    EDGE    OF    SLANDER 

WIZARD  LEWIS  boldly  re-beglns  his 
work  of  White  House  capturing. 
He  becomes  busy  to  the  elbows  in 
the  General's  destinies  before  Statesman  Adams 
is  inaugurated.  When  the  latter  names  States- 
man Clay  to  be  his  Secretary  of  State,  Wizard 
Lewis  lays  bare  the  deal  which  thus  exalts  the 
Kentuckian.  He  raises  the  cry  of  "  Bargain 
and  Corruption!  '*  and  the  public  takes  it  up. 
Statesman  Adams  and  Statesman  Clay  are  pil- 
loried as  conspirators  who  have  wronged  the 
General  of  a  Presidency,  and  the  State  port- 
folio In  the  hands  of  Statesman  Clay  is  pointed 
to  as  proof.  The  General  writes  the  bloom- 
ing Rachel,  just  now  at  home  by  the  Cumber- 
land: 

*'  The  Judas  of  the  West  has  closed  the  con- 
tract and  received  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver." 

Statesman  Clay  defends  himself  badly.  He 
declares  that  he  objects  to  the  General's  White 

239 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

House  ambitions  only  because  he  Is  a  "  Mili- 
tary Chieftain."  He  speaks  as  though  the 
world  knows  that  a  ''  Military  Chieftain  "  will 
make  a  perilous  Chief  Magistrate.  The  world 
knows  nothing  of  the  sort;  the  cry  of  "  Bargain 
and  Corruption  "  gains  head. 

In  retort  to  that  arraignment  of  being  a 
*'  Military  Chieftain  " — made  as  if  the  phrase 
be  merely  another  name  for  "  buccaneer  " — the 
General  writes  the  old  friendly  fox,  Colonel 
Burr: 

*'  It  is  not  strange  that  he  (Statesman  Clay) 
should  indulge  himself  in  such  reasoning,  since 
it  comes  somewhat  to  his  own  personal  defense. 
Our  blue-grass  Secretary  has  been  ever  remark- 
able for  his  caution,  to  give  it  a  no  worse  name, 
and  has  not  yet  risked  himself  for  his  coun- 
try, or  moved  from  safe  repose  to  repel  an 
invading  foe." 

The  General  is  not  the  only  one  who  com- 
ments upon  the  astounding  copartnership  in 
politics  and  policies  between  Statesman  Adams 
and  Statesman  Clay.  John  Randolph,  of  Roa- 
noke, remarks  concerning  it,  from  his  bitter 
place  in  the  Senate: 

"  Sir,  it  Is  a  coming  together  of  the  puritan 
and  the  blackleg — Blifil  and  Black  George !  " 

240 


3.        oL.    ^Ac^y\^YiJy  , 


THE     EDGE      OF      SLANDER 

This  view  seems  hugely  to  excite  Statesman 
Clay,  and  he  challenges  the  picturesque  Ran- 
dolph to  a  duel  by  Little  Falls.  They  meet; 
but,  since  both  are  at  pains  to  miss,  no  good 
comes  of  it. 

Wizard  Lewis  goes  teaching  the  General's 
merits  in  every  State  of  the  Union.  In  his 
White  House  siege.  Wizard  Lewis  receives  his 
best  help  from  Statesman  Adams  himself. 

The  latter  publicist  is  a  personage  of  ice- 
cold  ideas,  and  lists  ingratitude  at  the  top  of 
the  virtues.  There  be  folk — descended,  doubt- 
less, of  ancestors  that  heated  the  pincers  and 
turned  the  thumbikins,  and  worked  the  strain- 
ing rack  for  the  Inquisitions  as  mere  day  la- 
borers at  torture — who  delight  in  doing  mean, 
hateful,  punishing  things  to  their  fellow  mor- 
tals, if  they  may  but  call  such  doing  "  duty.'* 
They  will  w^eep  hypocritically  while  burning  a 
victim,  and  aver,  between  sobs,  that  they  pile 
the  fagots  and  apply  the  torch  only  from  a 
"  sternest  conviction  of  duty."  The  word 
"  duty,"  like  the  venom  of  a  serpent,  is  ever  in 
their  mouths;  by  it  they  break  hearts,  destroy 
hopes,  create  blackness,  blot  out  light,  forbid 
happiness,  foster  grief,  and  plant  pain  in  breasts 
Innocent  of  every  crime  save  that  of  helping 

241 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

them.  Statesman  Adams — heart  as  hollow  as 
a  bell  and  quite  as  brazen — Is  one  of  these.  He 
demonstrates  his  purity  by  refusing  his  obliga- 
tions, and  proves  himself  great  by  turning  his 
back  on  his  friends.  Made  up  of  a  multitude 
of  littlenesses,  he  offers  no  trait  of  breadth  or 
bigness  as  an  offset.  He  is  not  wise;  he  Is  not 
brave;  he  is  not  generous;  he  Is  not — even  In 
wrongdoing — original.  He  will  guide  by  some 
maxim;  or  he  will  permit  himself  to  be  posed 
by  a  proverb;  and,  while  ever  breathlessly  re- 
spectable, he  Is  never  once  right.  As  President 
he  proposes  for  himself  an  inhuman  goodness, 
and  declares  that  he  will  remove  no  one  from 
office  on  "  account  of  politics  " — a  catch  phrase 
which  has  protected  Incompetency  In  place  in 
every  age. 

Although  he  Is  so  fond  of  them.  Statesman 
Adams,  In  taking  the  latter  snow-white  position, 
overlooks  an  aphorism  that  will  be  vital  while 
time  lasts.  He  forgets  that  "  The  President 
who  makes  no  removals  will  himself  be  re- 
moved.'* 

"Strike,  lest  you  be  stricken!"  murmured 
Queen  Elizabeth,  as  seizing  the  pen  she  signed 
the  warrant  of  block  and  axe  for  Scottish 
Mary,  and  It  might  be  well  and  wise  for  States- 

242 


THE     EDGE      OF     SLANDER 

man  Adams  to  wear  in  constant  mind  that  Il- 
lustrious example. 

The  thought  is  vain.  Statesman  Adams  Ig- 
nores his  friends,  consults  his  foes,  and  offers 
a  base  picture  of  the  ungrateful  that  draws  the 
public's  honest  wrath  his  way.  Wizard  Lewis 
Is  no  one  to  miss  such  opportunities  to  upbuild 
the  General's  fortunes  at  the  expense  of  the 
enemy;  and  so  the  General  grows  each  day 
stronger,  while  Statesman  Adams — who  hopes 
to  succeed  himself  —  owns  less  and  less  of 
strength. 

The  currents  of  time  flow  swiftly  now,  and 
four  years  go  by — four  years  wherein  the  old 
friendly  far-seeing  fox.  Colonel  Burr,  in  his 
Nassau  Street  burrow,  teaches  the  General's 
leaders  intrigue  as  a  pedagogue  teaches  the  al- 
phabet to  his  pupils.  And  day  after  day  the 
purblind  Adams,  with  the  purblind  Clay  at  the 
elbow  of  his  hopes  and  fears,  sets  traps  against 
his  own  prospects,  and  does  his  unwitting  best 
or  worst  to  destroy  himself.  Then  comes  the 
canvass:  the  General  against  Statesman  Adams, 
who  courts  a  reelection. 

The  moment  the  rival  forces  march  upon  the 
field,  the  dullest  marks  the  superiority  of  the 
General's.     With  that.  Statesman  Clay — In  the 

243 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

war  saddle  for  Statesman  Adams,  whose  battle 
is  his  battle  and  whose  defeat  means  his  down- 
fall— loses  his  head.  He  accuses  the  General 
of  every  offense  except  that  of  theft,  calls  him 
every  name  save  that  of  coward.  The  accusa- 
tions fail;  the  epithets  fall  harmless  to  the 
ground;  the  people  know,  and  draw  the  closer 
about  the  General's  standards.  The  latter's  pop- 
ularity rises  as  might  a  hurricane,  and  sweeps 
away  opposition  like  down  of  thistles ! 

Statesman  Clay  becomes  frantic.  Possessed 
as  by  a  demon,  he  issues  instructions  to  assail 
the  blooming  Rachel.  His  hound-pack  obey  the 
call.  From  that  moment  the  General's  mar- 
riage is  the  issue.  He  is  charged  with  "  steal- 
ing another's  wife,"  and  every  shaft  of  menda- 
cious villification  is  shot  against  the  unoffending 
bosom  of  the  blooming  Rachel.  Those  are  fire- 
swept  moments  of  anguish  for  the  General, 
who  feels  the  pain  the  more,  since  his  hands  are 
tied  against  what  saw-handle  methods  silenced 
the  dead  Dickinson  one  May  Kentucky  morn- 
ing in  that  poplar  wood. 

The  blooming  Rachel,  for  her  wronged  part, 
says  never  a  word.  She  goes  the  oftener  to  the 
little  church,  but  that  is  all.  And  yet,  while 
she  seems  so  resigned  and  patient  beneath  the 

244 


THE     EDGE      OF     SLANDER 

slandrous  lash,  the  thong  is  biting  always  to 
her  soul's  source. 

The  election  takes  place,  and  now  the  people 
speak.  They  set  the  grinding  heel  of  their  an- 
ger upon  those  slanders;  they  throw  down  that 
ladder  of  lies  by  which  Statesman  Adams  hopes 
to  climb.  Wizard  Lewis,  Burr-guided,  foils 
Statesman  Clay  at  every  point;  the  General 
rides  down  Statesman  Adams  like  a  coach  and 
six. 

New  England  is  tribal  and  narrow,  with  the 
reeking  taint  of  old  Federalism  in  its  veins;  it 
gives  itself  for  Statesman  Adams,  unredeemed 
save  by  a  single  district  in  Maine.  There,  in- 
deed, rises  up  one  electoral  vote  for  the  Gen- 
eral. It  shows  in  the  gray  waste  of  Adams 
sentiment  about  it,  like  a  green  tree  and  a 
fountain  against  the  gray  wastes  of  Sahara. 
New  Jersey,  Delaware,  Maryland  follow  in 
New  England's  dreary  wake  for  Statesman 
Adams;  while  New  York  gives  him  sixteen 
electoral  votes  out  of  thirty-six.  That  offers 
the  round  circumference  of  his  Clay-collected 
strength — an  electoral  vote  of  eighty-three! 

For  the  General,  Pennsylvania,  Virginia, 
North  Carolina,  South  Carolina,  Georgia,  Ala- 
bama,  Mississippi,   Missouri,   Kentucky,  Ohio, 

245 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

and  Illinois  go  headlong;  while  New  York  gives 
him  twenty  electoral  votes,  with  Tennessee  his 
own  by  a  popular  count  of  twenty  for  one. 
Statesman  Clay,  as  a  retort  to  the  slanders  he 
fulminated,  beholds  his  own  State  of  Kentucky 
reject  him,  and  aid  in  swelling  those  one  hun- 
dred and  seventy-eight  electoral  votes  which 
declare  for  the  General.  The  world  at  large, 
seated  by  its  fireside  and  sagely  thumbing  those 
returns  of  one  hundred  and  seventy-eight  for 
the  General  against  a  meager  eighty-three  for 
Statesman  Adams,  finds  therein  a  stunning  re- 
buke to  both  the  ambitions  and  the  methods  of 
Statesman  Clay. 

When  word  of  the  General's  election  reaches 
the  blooming  Rachel,  she  smiles  wearily  and 
says : 

"  For  the  General's  sake  I'm  glad!  For 
myself  I  never  wished  it." 

Now  that  the  war  of  the  votes  is  over  and 
the  General  victor,  mankind  relaxes  into  Its 
customary  dinners  and  parades.  The  Cumber- 
land good  people  resolve  to  outparade  all  for- 
mer parades,  outdine  all  former  dinners.  They 
engage  themselves  with  tremendous  gala  prep- 
arations. It  shall  be  a  time  when  oxen  are 
eaten  whole,  and  whisky  is  drunk  by  the  barrel. 

246 


THE     EDGE      OF     SLANDER 

The  day  set  apart  as  sacred  to  the  coming 
parade,  and  that  dinner  yet  to  be  devoured, 
breaks  brightly  full  of  promise.  There  Is  never 
a  cloud  In  the  Cumberland  sky,  never  a  care 
on  the  Cumberland  heart.  In  a  moment  all  is 
reversed! — light  gives  way  to  blackness,  hap- 
piness to  grief !  Like  a  bolt  from  a  heaven 
smiling,  the  word  descends  that  the  blooming 
Rachel  lies  dead.  The  word  is  true.  The  mon- 
strous weight  of  slander  heaped  upon  It  breaks 
her  gentle  heart. 

They  bury  the  blooming  Rachel  at  the  foot 
of  the  garden  where  her  best-loved  flowers 
grow.  The  General  is  ten  years  older  In  a 
night;  the  tall  form,  yesterday  as  straight  as  a 
lance.  Is  bent  and  broken.  The  blue  eyes,  once 
hawklike,  are  dimmed  with  tears.  Friends 
come  to  press  his  hand — he  chokes  and  cannot 
speak!  But  the  awful  agony  of  his  soul  Is 
written  In  the  sweat  drops  on  his  wrung  brow. 

As  the  General  stands  by  the  grave  that  Is 
smothering  for  him  all  the  song  and  the  sweet 
sunshine  of  life,  the  ever-faithful,  never-failing 
Coffee  Is  by  his  side.  The  poor  General  reaches 
blindly  out  and  takes  hold  of  the  rough,  big, 
loyal  hand  for  support.  His  beloved  Coffee, 
who  flanked  the  Red  Stick  Creeks  for  him  at 
17  247 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

the  Horseshoe  and  held  his  low  mud  walls 
against  England's  boast  and  best  at  New  Or- 
leans, will  not  fail  him  now  in  this  his  sternest 
trial  by  the  graveside  of  the  blooming  Rachel! 
The  General,  doubly  quiet,  doubly  stern,  is- 
sues forth  of  that  ordeal  another  man.  He  is 
as  one  who  lives  because  it  is  his  duty,  and  not 
for  love  of  life.  Plainly,  his  hopes  like  his 
heart  are  buried  with  the  blooming  Rachel.  In 
his  soul  he  lays  her  death  to  the  doors  of  States- 
man Adams  and  Statesman  Clay;  throughout 
the  years  to  follow  he  will  never  forget  nor 
forgive.  To  the  end  he  will  cultivate  his  hatred 
of  them,  and  tend  it  as  he  might  a  flower. 
Time  cannot  remold  him  in  this  belief;  and  a 
decade  later  he  will  say  to  his  friend  Lewis, 
while  his  eye  flashes  like  some  sudden-drawn 
rapier: 

"  Major,  she  was  stung  to  death  by  slander! 
It  was  such  adders  as  John  Quincy  Adams,  such 
pit-vipers  as  Henry  Clay,  that  killed  her!  " 


XX 

THE    GENERAL    GOES    TO    THE 
WHITE    HOUSE 


CHAPTER    XX 

THE   GENERAL   GOES   TO   THE    WHITE    HOUSE 

THIS  is  of  a  Steamboat  day,  and  keel 
boats  are  but  a  memory.  The  Gen- 
eral makes  his  tedious  eight-weeks' 
way  to  Washington  via  the  Cumberland,  the 
Ohio,  the  mountains,  and  the  Potomac  valley. 
It  is  like  the  progress  of  a  conqueror.  The 
people  throng  about  him  until  Wizard  Lewis, 
remembering  his  broken  state,  fears  for  his  life. 
The  fears  are  without  grounds  to  stand  on. 
Applause  never  kills,  and  the  General  finds  in 
it  the  milk  of  lions.  He  enters  Washington  re- 
newed, and  w^as  never  so  fit  for  hard  work. 
The  General  is  inaugurated.  As  he  is  cheered 
into  the  White  House  by  jubilant  thousands. 
Statesman  Clay,  beaten  and  bitter,  retires  to 
Kentucky;  while  Statesman  Adams  goes  back  to 
Massachusetts,  where  his  ice-waterisms,  let  us 
hope,  will  be  appreciated,  and  from  which 
frigid  region  he  ought  never  to  have  been 
drawn. 

251 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

When  the  General  is  declared  President, 
Statesman  Calhoun  is  made  Vice-President. 
From  his  high  perch  in  the  Senate  Statesman 
Calhoun  begins  at  once  to  scan  the  plain  of  the 
possible  for  ways  and  means  to  name  himself 
the  General's  successor.  He  proves  dull  In  the 
furtherance  of  his  ambitions,  and  conceives  that 
the  only  best  path  to  victory  lies  over  the  Gen- 
eral himself.  He  must  break  down  that  demi- 
god in  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  teach  them 
to  hate  where  now  they  trust  and  love. 

The  General  is  not  a  day  in  Washington  be- 
fore Statesman  Calhoun  is  intriguing  to  cut  the 
ground  of  popularity  from  beneath  his  feet. 
As  frequently  happens  with  dark-lantern  strate- 
gists, his  plottings  in  their  very  inception  go 
off  on  the  wrong  foot.  Statesman  Calhoun  is 
so  foolish  as  to  commence  his  campaign  against 
the  General  with  an  attack  upon  a  woman. 
The  woman  thus  malevolently  distinguished  is 
the  pretty  Peg,  once  belle  of  the  Indian  Queen. 

Between  that  time  when  the  General  came 
last  to  Washington  as  Senator  and  the  pretty 
Peg  was  petted  and  loved  by  the  blooming 
Rachel,  and  now  when  the  General  occupies 
the  White  House  as  President,  destiny  has  been 
moving  rapidly  and  not  always  gayly  with  the 

252 


TO     THE      WHITE      HOUSE 

pretty  Peg.  In  that  interim  she  becomes  the 
wife  of  Purser  TImberlake  of  the  Navy,  who 
later  cuts  his  drunken  throat  and  walks  over- 
board to  his  drunken  death  In  the  Mediter- 
ranean. 

In  her  widow's  weeds  the  pretty  Peg  looks 
prettier  than  before — since  black  is  ever  the 
best  setting  for  beauty,  and  shows  it  off  like  a 
diamond.  Major  Eaton,  Senator  from  Ten- 
nessee and  per  Incident  friend  of  the  General, 
is  smitten  of  the  pretty  Peg,  and  marries  her. 
The  wedding  bells  are  ringing  as  the  General 
rides  into  Washington. 

It  is  an  hour  wherein  Vice-Presidents  have 
more  to  say  than  they  will  later  on.  Statesman 
Calhoun,  scheming  his  own  advantage,  puts 
forward  covert  efforts  to  place  his  friends  about 
the  General  as  cabineteers.  This  is  not  so  dif- 
ficult; since  the  General  is  not  thinking  on 
Statesman  Calhoun.  His  eyes,  hate-guided,  are 
fastened  upon  Statesman  Adams  and  Statesman 
Clay;  his  single  aim  is  to  advance  no  follower 
of  theirs.  These  are  happy  conditions  for 
Statesman  Calhoun,  who  comes  up  unseen  on 
the  General's  blind  side,  and  presents  him — all 
unnoticed — with  three  of  his  Cabinet  six. 

Statesman    Calhoun,    who    prefers    four   to 

253 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

three,  next  tries  all  he  secretly  knows  to  control 
the  General's  choice  of  a  War  Secretary.  In 
this  he  meets  defeat;  the  General  selects  Major 
Eaton,  just  wedded  to  the  pretty  Peg.  His 
completed  Cabinet  Includes  Van  Buren,  Secre- 
tary of  State;  Ingham,  Secretary  of  the  Treas- 
ury; Eaton,  Secretary  of  War;  Branch,  Secre- 
tary of  the  Navy;  Berrien,  Attorney  General; 
and  Barry,  Postmaster  General.  Of  these, 
Statesman  Calhoun,  craftily  reviewing  the  list 
from  his  perch  In  the  Senate,  may  call  Cabl- 
neteers  Ingham,  Branch,  and  Berrien  his  hench- 
men. 

The  General  Is  not  aware  of  this  Calhoun 
color  to  his  Cabinet.  The  last  man  of  the  six 
hates  Statesman  Clay  and  Statesman  Adams; 
which  Is  the  consideration  most  upon  the  Gen- 
eral's mind.  He  does  not  like  Statesman  Cal- 
houn. But  he  In  no  sort  suspects  him;  and,  at 
this  crisis  of  Cabinet  making,  that  plotting 
Vice-President  Is  not  at  all  upon  the  General's 
slope  of  thought. 

Not  content  with  half  the  Cabinet,  States- 
man Calhoun  resents  prlvUy  his  failure  to  con- 
trol the  war  portfolio.  He  resolves  to  attack 
Major  Eaton,  and  drive  him  from  the  place. 
As  much  wanting  In  chivalry  as  In  a  wisdom 

254 


TO      THE      WHITE      HOUSE 

of  the  popular,  he  decides  to  assail  him  through 
the  pretty  Peg.  It  Is  the  error  of  Statesman 
Calhoun's  career,  which  now  becomes  one  blun- 
dering procession  of  mistakes. 

Statesman  Calhoun's  attack  on  the  pretty 
Peg  begins  with  hidden  adroitness.  There  lives 
In  Philadelphia  a  smug  dominie  named  Ely. 
On  the  merest  Calhoun  hint  In  the  dark,  Dom- 
inie Ely — who  has  a  mustard-seed  soul — writes 
the  General  a  letter,  wherein  he  charges  the 
pretty  Peg  with  every  Immorality.  Dominie 
Ely  prayerfully  protests  against  the  husband  of 
a  woman  so  morally  ebon  making  one  of  the 
General's  official  family. 

The  General  Is  In  flames  in  a  moment.  His 
loved  and  blooming  Rachel  was  stabbed  to 
death  by  slander!  The  pretty  Peg  was  the 
blooming  Rachel's  favorite,  in  that  old  day  at 
the  Indian  Queen!  The  General  possesses 
every  angry  reason  for  being  aroused,  and  he 
sends  fiercely  for  smug  Dominie  Ely. 

The  vllllfying  Dominie  Ely  appears  before 
the  General  In  fear  and  trembling  —  color 
stricken  from  his  fat  cheek.  He  falterlngly 
confesses  that  he  has  been  Inspired  to  his  slan- 
ders by  a  Dominie  Campbell.  The  furious 
General    summons    Dominie    Campbell,    about 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

whom  there  is  a  Calhoun  atmosphere  of  jackal 
and  buzzard  in  even  parts.  The  General  hurls 
pointed  questions  at  Dominie  Campbell,  and 
catches  him  In  lies. 

While  the  General  Is  putting  to  flight  the 
two  black-coat  buzzards  of  slander,  the  war 
breaks  out  In  a  new  quarter.  The  "  Ladles  of 
Washington,"  compared  to  whom  the  Red 
Stick  Creeks  at  the  Horseshoe  and  the  redcoat 
English  at  New  Orleans  are  as  children's  toys, 
fall  upon  the  General's  social  flank.  They  hate 
the  pretty  Peg  because  she  Is  more  beautiful 
than  they.  They  resent  her  as  the  daughter  of 
a  tavern  keeper — a  common  tapster! — who  Is 
now  being  lifted  to  a  social  eminence  equal  with 
their  own.  These  reasons  bring  the  "  Ladles 
of  Washington  "  to  the  field.  But  with  mili- 
tant saplency  they  conceal  them,  and  adopt  as 
the  pretended  cause  of  their  onslaught  the 
slanders  of  those  ophidians,  Dominie  Ely  and 
Dominie  Campbell. 

Mrs.  Calhoun,  wife  of  Statesman  Calhoun, 
at  the  head  of  Capital  fashion  and  social  war- 
chief  of  the  *'  Ladles  of  Washington,"  says  she 
will  not  "  recognize  "  the  pretty  Peg.  Mrs. 
Ingham,  Mrs.  Branch,  and  Mrs.  Berrien,  wives 
of  the  three  Cablneteers  who  wear  in  private 

256 


TO      THE      WHITE      HOUSE 

the  colors  of  Statesman  Calhoun,  say  they  will 
not  *'  recognize  "  the  pretty  Peg.  Mrs.  Donel- 
son,  wife  of  the  General's  private  secretary  and 
ex  officio  ''  Lady  of  the  White  House,"  says 
she  win  not  "  recognize  "  the  pretty  Peg.  The 
latter  drawing-room  Red  Stick  Is  the  General's 
niece.  Also,  she  Is  In  fashionable  leading 
strings  to  Mrs.  Calhoun,  who  as  social  war- 
chief  of  the  "  Ladles  of  Washington  "  dazzles 
and  benumbs  her. 

Mrs.  Donelson  approaches  the  General  con- 
cerning the  pretty  Peg. 

"  Anything  but  that,  Uncle !  "  she  says.  "  I 
am  sorry  to  offend  you,  but  I  cannot  '  recog- 
nize '  Mrs.  Eaton." 

"  Then  you'd  better  go  back  to  Tennessee, 
my  dear!  "  returns  the  General,  between  puffs 
at  his  clay  pipe. 

Mrs.  Donelson  and  her  unwilling  spouse  go 
back  to  Tennessee.  The  war  against  the  pretty 
Peg  goes  on. 

The  General's  Cabinet  Is  a  house  divided 
against  Itself.  Cablneteers  Ingham,  Branch, 
and  Berrien  align  themselves  with  Statesman 
Calhoun  on  this  Issue  of  the  pretty  Peg.  For 
each  has  a  ring  In  his  nose,  a  wedding  ring,  and 
his  wife  leads  him  about  by  It  socially,  hither 

257 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

and  yon  as  she  chooses.  Cablneteers  Van 
Buren  and  Barry  range  diemselves  with  Cabi- 
neteer  Eaton  and  the  pretty  Peg. 

Cablneteer  Van  Buren  is  short,  round,  fat, 
smooth,  adroit,  ambitious,  and  so  much  the 
mental  tree-toad  that,  now  when  he  is  in  con- 
tact with  the  positive  General,  his  every  opin- 
ion takes  its  color  from  that  warrior.  Also 
Cabineteer  Van  Buren  is  a  widower,  with  no 
wife  to  lead  him  socially  by  the  nose.  Hat  in 
hand,  he  calls  upon  the  pretty  Peg — a  polite- 
ness which  pleases  the  General  tremendously. 

Cabineteer  Van  Buren  gives  dinners,  and 
asks  the  pretty  Peg  to  perform  as  hostess. 
With  a  wise  eye  on  the  General,  he  incites 
Cabineteer  Barry,  who  is  a  bachelor,  to  burst 
into  similar  dinners,  with  the  pretty  Peg  in  com- 
mand. By  his  suggestion.  Minister  Vaughn  of 
the  English  and  Minister  Krudener  of  the  Rus- 
sians, who  like  Cabineteer  Barry  are  bachelors, 
follow  amiable  suit.  They  give  legation  din- 
ners, at  which  the  pretty  Peg  presides.  The 
General  adopts  these  brilliant  examples  with 
the  White  House.  The  pretty  Peg  finds  her- 
self in  control  of  such  society  high  ground  as 
the  English  and  Russian  legations,  two  Cabi- 
net houses  besides  her  own,  and  last  and  most 

258 


TO      THE      WHITE      HOUSE 

important  the  White  House  itself.  It  is  a 
merry  even  if  a  savage  war,  and  the  pretty 
Peg  is  everywhere  victorious. 

Not  everywhere!  Mrs.  Calhoun,  as  war- 
chief  of  the  "  Ladies  of  Washington,"  with 
Mrs.  Ingham,  Mrs.  Branch,  and  Mrs.  Berrien 
about  her  as  a  staff,  refuses  to  yield.  These 
four  indomitables  and  their  beflounced  and  be- 
feathered  followers,  noses  uptilted  in  scorn  of 
the  pretty  Peg,  prosecute  their  battle  to  the 
acrid  end. 

In  the  earlier  stages,  the  General,  his  angry 
thoughts  on  Statesman  Clay,  inclines  to  the  be- 
lief that  these  attacks  on  the  pretty  Peg  are  of 
that  defeated  personage's  connivance,  and  says 
so  to  Wizard  Lewis. 

Wizard  Lewis,  when  the  General  is  inaugu- 
rated, is  for  returning  to  his  Cumberland  home, 
but  finds  himself  restrained  by  the  lonesome 
General. 

"  What!  "  cries  the  latter,  "  would  you  leave 
me  now,  after  doing  more  than  all  the  rest  to 
land  me  here?  " 

Upon  which  reproach.  Wizard  Lewis  re- 
mains, and  lives  in  the  White  House  with  the 
General.  It  befalls  that  with  the  earliest  slan- 
ders of  the  ophidians.  Dominie  Ely  and  Dom- 

259 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

inie  Campbell,  the  General  goes  to  Wizard 
Lewis  with  accusations  against  Statesman  Clay. 

"  It's  that  pit-vlper,  Henry  Clay!  "  cries  the 
General.  "  Major,  the  pet  employment  of  that 
scoundrel  Is  the  vUlIficatlon  of  good  women!  " 

Wizard  Lewis  holds  to  a  different  view.  He 
declares  that  the  secret  Impulse  of  this  base  war 
is  Statesman  Calhoun,  and  proves  it  as  events 
unfold. 

"  And  yet,"  asks  the  General,  "  why  should 
he  assail  little  Peg?  Both  he  and  Mrs.  Cal- 
houn called  upon  her  and  Major  Eaton,  and 
congratulated  them  on  their  marriage." 

"  That  was  while  Major  Eaton  was  a  sena- 
tor," Wizard  Lewis  responds,  "  and  before  he 
became  War  Secretary  and  got  In  the  way  of 
the  Calhoun  plans.  Your  Vice-President,  Gen- 
eral, is  mad  to  be  President.  Also,  he  is  so 
blurred  in  his  strategy  as  to  imagine  that  these 
attacks  on  little  Peg  will  advance  his  prospects." 

The  General  snorts  suspiciously;  a  light 
breaks  upon  him. 

"  Then  your  theory  is,"  he  says,  "  that  Cal- 
houn assails  Peg  as  a  step  toward  the  presi- 
dency." 

*' Precisely,  General!  Rightly  construed.  It 
is  not  an  attack  on  Peg,  but  you.     He  is  try- 

260 


TO     THE      WHITE     HOUSE 

ing  to  put  you  before  the  people  In  the  role  of 
one  who  countenances  the  Immoral,  and  up- 
holds a  bad  woman.  In  that  he  hopes  to  array 
every  virtuous  fireside  against  you.  He  looks 
for  you  to  ask  a  second  term;  and,  by  any 
means  In  his  power,  he  will  strive  to  destroy 
you  out  of  his  path." 

"  Now,  was  there  ever  such  Infamy !  "  cries 
the  General.  "  Here  Is  a  man  so  vile  that  he 
would  pave  his  way  to  the  White  House  with 
the  slain  honor  of  a  woman!  " 

The  hate  of  the  General  Is  now  focused  upon 
Statesman  Calhoun.  That  Ignoble  strategist, 
he  resolves,  shall  never  achieve  the  presidency. 

As  one  wherewith  to  defeat  Statesman  Cal- 
houn and  succeed  himself,  the  General  picks 
upon  Cablneteer  Van  Buren — that  suave  one, 
who  Is  so  much  to  the  urbane  fore  for  the 
pretty  Peg. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  says  the  General  to  Wizard 
Lewis;  ^' I'll  take  a  second  term!  And  then. 
Major,  we  will  make  Matt  President  after  me." 
We'll   do   more,"   returns   Wizard  Lewis. 

When  we  elect  you  President  the  second  time, 
we'll  shove  aside  the  plotting  Calhoun,  and 
make  Van  Buren  Vice-President." 

*' Right!"     exults     the     General.      "Then, 

261 


u 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

should  I  die,  Matt  will  at  once  step  into  my 
shoes." 

Neither  the  General  nor  Wizard  Lewis  is  at 
pains  to  conceal  their  design.  The  sallow  cheek 
of  Statesman  Calhoun  grows  sallower;  for  the 
news  is  like  an  icicle  through  his  heart.  It  in 
no  wise  abates  his  war  upon  the  pretty  Peg, 
however;  which — as  Wizard  Lewis  guesses — is 
only  meant  to  break  down  the  General  with 
good  people. 


XXI 

WIZARD    LEWIS    URGES    A 
CHANGE    OF    FRONT 


18 


CHAPTER    XXI 

WIZARD  LEWIS   URGES  A  CHANGE  OF   FRONT 

WIZARD  LEWIS,  bending  his  brows 
to  the  situation,  now  counsels  an 
extreme  step.  The  pretty  Peg  Is 
vindicated;  In  all  quarters  she  rises  in  triumph 
over  Mrs.  Calhoun,  Mrs.  Ingham,  Mrs. 
Branch,  Mrs.  Berrien,  and  what  other  "  society 
Red  Sticks  " — as  he  terms  them — seek  her  de- 
struction. The  next  thing  Is  to  shear  away  the 
cabinet  strength  of  Statesman  Calhoun.  Wiz- 
ard Lewis  recommends  a  dissolution  of  the 
Cabinet.  He  lays  his  thought  before  the  Gen- 
eral, who  sits  listening  in  the  smoke  of  his  long 
pipe.  Cablneteer  Van  Buren  will  resign.  Cabl- 
neteers  Eaton  and  Barry  will  emulate  his  ex- 
ample and  turn  over  their  portfolios.  With 
half  his  Cabinet  gone,  should  the  Calhoun  three 
prove  backward,  the  General  shall  demand 
their  portfolios. 

"And   then?"    asks   the   General,    his   Iron- 
gray  head  In  a  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke. 

265 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

**  Then  you  will  make  Van  Buren  Minister 
to  England,  and  give  Major  Eaton  the  gov- 
ernorship of  Florida.  Little  Peg  should  look 
well  In  the  palace  at  St.  Augustine." 

"  By  the  Eternal !  "  cries  the  General,  as  he 
hurls  his  clay  pipe  into  the  fireplace  where  hun- 
dreds of  its  brittle  predecessors  have  gone 
crashing — "by  the  Eternal,  we'll  do  it!  The 
last  vestige  of  a  Calhoun  cabinet  influence 
shall  be  wiped  out!  " 

It  comes  to  pass  as  Wizard  Lewis  pro- 
grammes. Cablneteer  Van  Buren  resigns,  and 
Cablneteers  Eaton  and  Barry  hasten  to  follow 
his  lead.  The  three  other  cablneteers  sit  dazed; 
the  suddenness  of  the  thing  takes  away  their 
cabinet  breaths.  They  sit  dazed  so  long  that 
the  General  loses  patience  and  asks  for  their 
portfolios.  One  by  one  they  hand  them  In,  as 
it  were  at  the  White  House  door — Cablneteer 
Ingham  being  last  and  most  reluctant  of  all. 

There  be  tears  and  mournful  walllngs  now 
among  the  society  Red  Sticks.  Mrs.  Ingham, 
Mrs.  Branch,  and  Mrs.  Berrien  are  shak- 
en in  their  social  souls,  never  for  one  mo- 
ment having  foreseen  this  movement  in  disas- 
trous flank.  However,  there  is  no  help  for 
It.     The   deposed  three  wash   off   their  social 

266 


A     CHANGE     OF     FRONT 

war  paint,  and  go  their  divers  ways  lament- 
ing; while  the  General  and  Wizard  Lewis 
grin  sourly  over  their  fireside  pipes.  As  for 
Statesman  Calhoun,  his  schemes  experience  a 
chill;  for  in  thus  sending  Cabineteers  Ingham, 
Branch,  and  Berrien  into  political  exile,  the 
General  drives  a  knife  to  the  very  heart  of  his 
selfish  diplomacy. 

Cabinet  wiped  out,  the  General  constructs 
another,  with  his  old-time  friend  and  comrade 
Livingston  as  Secretary  of  State.  Also,  the 
agreeable  Van  Buren  departs  for  the  Court  of 
St.  James  as  the  General's  envoy  to  England, 
while  Major  Eaton  and  the  villified  yet  vic- 
torious Peg  wend  southward  among  the  flowers 
to  rule  over  Florida. 

Before  he  leaves  Washington,  the  ill-used 
Eaton  makes  praiseworthy  attempts  to  fasten  a 
duel  upon  ex-Cabineteer  Ingham,  who  hires  a 
whole  stage  coach  and  gallops  off  to  Baltimore 
— the  fear  of  death  upon  him — to  avoid  being 
sacrificed.  The  flight  of  ex-Cabineteer  Ingham 
Is  a  shock  to  the  General. 

"  I  knew  he  was  a  bad,  designing  man," 
says  the  General  with  a  sigh;  *' but,  upon  my 
soul.  Major,  I  didn't  think  him  a  coward!  " 

Statesman  Calhoun,  weaker  by  virtue  of  that 

267 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

Cabinet  lopping  ojff,  is  still  too  narrowly  set  in  his 
White  House  ambitions  to  give  up  the  war.  In 
this  he  is  much  sustained  by  the  Senate,  which 
jealous  body  pretends  to  possess  its  own  causes 
of  complaint.  Chief  among  these  is  the  ob- 
vious manner  in  which  the  General  promotes 
the  importance  of  that  old  fox,  Colonel  Burr. 
The  General  shows  that  he  cares  more  for  the 
appointment-indorsement  of  Colonel  Burr  than 
for  the  recommendations  of  half  the  Senate. 
This  does  not  set  well  on  the  proud  senatorial 
stomachs  of  the  togaed  ones;  and,  with  States- 
man Calhoun  to  lead  them,  they  are  willing  to 
obstruct  and  baffle  the  General  in  his  policies. 
Moved  of  this  spirit,  and  at  the  instigation  of 
Statesman  Calhoun,  the  Senate  refuses  to  con- 
firm the  appointment  of  Minister  Van  Buren — 
a  Burrite — who  thereupon  makes  his  farewell 
unruffled  bow  to  the  great  ones  at  St.  James  and 
returns  amiably  home. 

That  Thomas  Benton,  who  was  so  fortunate 
as  to  fall  into  a  receptive  cellar  on  a  certain 
Nashville  occasion  when  the  muzzle  of  the 
General's  saw-handle  was  at  his  breast,  and  who 
is  now  in  the  Senate  from  Missouri,  gives 
Statesman  Calhoun  notice  of  what  he  may  ex- 
pect: 

268 


Edward  Livingston 

From  a  Jrazuing  by  J.  B.  Longacre. 


A     CHANGE     OF     FRONT 

"  You  have  broken  a  minister,"  observes  the 
farsighted  Benton — "  you  have  broken  a  Min- 
ister to  make  a  Vice-President." 

While  the  slander  battle  against  the  pretty 
Peg  is  raging,  a  storm  cloud  of  a  different  char- 
acter is  gathering  over  the  General.  Although 
Statesman  Clay  has  no  part  in  that  war  upon 
the  pretty  Peg,  he  by  no  means  sits  with  folded 
hands  in  idleness. 

There  is  a  certain  money-creature  called 
the  United  States  Bank.  It  is  controlled  by 
one  Biddle  of  Philadelphia.  Banker  Biddle 
is  a  glistening,  serpentine  personage,  oily  and 
avaricious — a  polished  composite  of  assurance, 
greed,  and  lies.  He  is  a  proven  and  unscrupu- 
lous corruptionist,  and  a  majority  of  both 
Senate  and  House  wait  upon  his  money-bidding. 
Under  the  Biddle  influence,  the  Bank  never 
fails  to  consider  the  mere  "  name  "  of  a  Con- 
gressman as  perfect  collateral  for  a  loan.  Even 
so  incorrigible  a  bankrupt  as  the  lion-faced 
Webster  is  good  at  the  Biddle  Bank  for  thou- 
sands. 

Secure  in  its  hold  on  Congress,  and  insolent 
— as  Money  ever  is  when  it  feels  secure — the 
Biddle  Bank  thinks  to  crack  a  political  whip. 
The    main    bank    is    in    Philadelphia.      There 

269 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

are  twenty-five  branch  banks  scattered  here 
and  there  throughout  the  country.  In  pursu- 
ance of  Its  determination  to  dominate  politics, 
the  Biddle  Bank  suddenly  refuses  loans  to  the 
General's  friends.  Banker  Biddle  and  the 
Bank  are  secretly  moved  to  these  doughty  at- 
titudes by  Statesman  Clay,  who,  with  his  party 
of  the  Whigs,  has  for  long  been  their  ally. 

Statesman  Clay,  in  possession  of  the  ma- 
chinery of  his  party,  is  resolved  to  put  his 
own  name  forward  at  the  head  of  the  next 
Whig  ticket  against  the  formidable  General. 
He  foresees  that  Statesman  Calhoun — who  Is 
of  the  General's  party  of  the  Democrats — will 
come  to  utter  grief  In  his  Intrigues  to  supplant 
the  General  and  make  himself  a  candidate. 
And  yet,  the  blue-grass  Machlavelll  can  use 
Statesman  Calhoun.  The  latter  is  powerful 
with  the  Senate.  The  Senate  hates  the  General 
as  blindly  as  does  Statesman  Calhoun. 

Machlavelll  Clay  resolves  to  have  advantage 
of  this  double  condition  of  hatred.  He  will 
beguile  the  General  to  attack  the  Biddle  Bank. 
The  attack  can  only  be  made  by  message  to 
Congress.  That  should  be  the  opportunity  of 
Machlavelll  Clay.  He  will  have  the  Senate  for 
the  battle  ground;  and  it  shall  go  hard  If  he 

270 


A     CHANGE     OF     FRONT 

do  not  emerge  with  the  General  defeated  and 
the  Bank  and  Banker  Biddle  at  his  back.  With 
such  friends  in  the  campaign  to  come  later  he 
should  have  the  General  and  his  party  of 
democracy  at  his  mercy.  Thus  dreams  Machia- 
velli  Clay. 

It  is  a  beautiful  dream — this  long-drawn  chi- 
cane of  Machiavelli  Clay.  As  a  move  toward 
its  realization  he  suggests  the  policy  of  a  loan 
hostility  toward  the  General's  friends;  for  the 
General  will  fight  almost  as  quickly  for  a  friend 
as  for  a  woman. 

Banker  Biddle  adopts  It,  and  the  Bank  de- 
velops It  in  Portsmouth.  The  paper  of  one 
of  the  General's  friends — a  Mr.  Isaac  Hill — 
Is  dishonored,  and  the  General's  friendship  Is 
understood  to  be  the  reason.  The  thing  Is 
managed  like  a  challenge,  and  has  the  Instant 
effect  of  bringing  the  General — ever  ready  for 
such  a  war — to  the  field.  In  Its  Invidious  at- 
titude toward  his  friends,  the  Bank  throws 
dow^n  the  glove;  and  the  General  promptly 
picks  It  up.  In  a  message  to  Congress,  he  as- 
sails the  Bank;  and  the  fight  Is  on. 

Money  Is  always  a  coward,  and  commonly  a 
fool.  Also  Its  Instinct  is  the  weak  instinct  of 
corruption.    Its  attitude  toward  a  public  Is  ever 

271 


WHEN      MEN     GREW    TALL 

that  of  the  threatening,  bullying,  bragging  ter- 
rorist, who  will  either  rule  or  ruin.  It  works 
by  fear,  and  resorts  to  every  quack  device.  It 
will  gnash  its  jaws,  lash  its  tail,  spout  fire  and 
smoke  in  the  face  of  a  quailing  world.  And 
yet  all  this  tail-lashing  and  jaw-gnashing  and 
fire-spouting  is  a  sham.  Money,  for  all  its 
appearance  of  ferocity,  is  no  more  perilous 
to  folk  who  face  it  than  Is  the  fire-spouting, 
jaw-gnashing,  tail-lashing  papier-mache  dragon 
of  grand  opera.  Attack  it,  and  what  follows? 
A  couple  of  rueful  supernumeraries  crawl  ab- 
jectly, if  grumblingly,  from  its  papier-mache 
stomach  —  the  complete  yet  harmless  reason 
of  the  jaw-gnashing,  fire-spouting,  tail-lashing 
from  which  a  frightened  world  shrunk  back. 

Besides  these  furious  matters.  Money  does 
another  lying  thing.  It  seeks  to  teach  the  pub- 
lic to  regard  it  as  the  palpitant  heart  of  the 
country  itself. 

"I  am  the  seat  of  life!"  cries  Money. 
''  Touch  me,  and  you  die!  " 

The  advantage  of  this  He  is  clear;  that  is,  if 
the  lie  win  credit.  Being  the  heart,  however 
corrupt,  no  law  surgery  may  reach  it.  If 
Money  were  the  hand  of  a  people,  or  the  fin- 
gers   on   that   hand,    then    it   might   be    dealt 

272 


A     CHANGE     OF     FRONT 

with.  It  could  be  statute-lanced  or  poulticed  or 
even  amputated,  and  no  threat  to  life  ensue. 
Money  foresees  this;  and,  with  that  lying 
cunning  which  is  ever  the  scoundrel  sword  and 
shield  of  cowards,  it  declares  itself  to  be  the 
heart.  Thus  is  it  safeguarded  against  the 
honest  least  correction  of  communal  saw  and 
knife.  Being  the  heart,  its  vileness  may  be  de- 
plored but  cannot  be  mended.  For  who*is  the 
mediciner  that  shall  handle  the  heart  to  any 
result  save  death? 

And  yet  while  Money  thus  proclaims  itself 
the  nation's  heart  it  lies.  It  is  not  even  so  re- 
putable a  member  as  the  hand.  At  the  most 
it  comes  to  be  no  more  than  just  a  thumb,  or  a 
forefinger,  and  the  farthest  possible  remove 
from  any  source  of  life.  Folk  who  would  aid 
their  money-throttled  hour  must  remember  these 
things. 

Banker  Biddle  and  the  Bank,  now  when 
the  General  advances  upon  them,  go  through 
that  furious  charlatanry  of  jaw-gnashing,  tail- 
lashing,  and  fire-spouting.  The  General  is  un- 
convinced, unterrified.  His  hawk  eyes  pierce 
the  miserable  masquerade.  He  knows  the  Bank 
for  a  dragon  of  paper  and  pretense,  and  does 
not  hesitate. 

273 


WHEN      MEN     GREW    TALL 

Falling  to  arouse  his  personal-political  fear, 
Banker  Biddle  and  the  Bank  attempt  to  stay 
the  General  by  proclaiming  a  peril  to  the  coun- 
try at  large. 

"  We  are  the  throbbing  heart  of  all  pros- 
perity!  "  they  cry. 

The  General  recognizes  the  lie.  He  knows 
that  prosperity  comes  from  the  rain  and  the  sun 
and  the  soil,  and  not  from  banks  or  bankers. 
As  well  might  the  two-bushel  sacks  declare 
themselves  to  be  the  harvest  reason  of  a  na- 
tion's wheat.  The  General  continues  his  ad- 
vance. There  shall  be  no  evasion,  no  hiding, 
no  safety  by  lies;  masks  are  not  to  avail  nor 
pretenses  protect. 

The  General  in  his  attack  on  Banker  Biddle 
and  the  Bank  displays  a  genius  even  with  that 
which  he  employed  against  the  English  at  New 
Orleans.  Banker  Biddle  and  the  Bank  are 
the  petted  custodians  of  all  the  millions  of 
Government.  The  General  "  removes  "  those 
millions — a  yellow  mountain  of  gold!  Inci- 
dentally, he  dismisses  a  weak-kneed  Secretary  of 
the  Treasury  as  a  preliminary. 

"Remove  the  deposits!"  says  the  Gen- 
eral. 

"  I  dare  not !  "  whines  the  weak-kneed  one. 

274 


A     CHANGE     OF     FRONT 

**  I  will  take  the  responsibility!"  urges  the 
General. 

Still  the  weak-kneed  one  falters.  At  that 
the  General  sets  him  aside. 

The  "  removal  "  of  those  Government  mil- 
lions, which  is  as  the  drawing  off  of  half  their 
life  blood,  leaves  the  Bank  and  Banker  Biddle 
exceeding  pale  in  the  face.  They  look  appeal- 
Ingly  at  Statesman  Clay,  who,  the  better  to 
manage  his  side  of  the  conflict,  has  taken  a  Ken- 
tucky seat  in  the  Senate.  Statesman  Clay  en- 
courages the  Bank  and  Banker  Biddle.  It  will 
all  come  right,  he  says;  there  is  a  Senate  bomb 
preparing. 

To  bring  the  General  squarely  before  the 
public  as  the  Bank's  destroyer,  Statesman  Clay 
anticipates  the  years  and  offers  a  measure 
renewing  the  charter  of  that  money  temple. 
Statesman  Calhoun,  with  every  Senate  foe  of 
the  General,  is  for  It.  The  measure  gallops 
through  both  Senate  and  House.  It  Is  sent 
whirling  to  the  White  House. 

"  Will  he  sign  It?  "  wonders  Statesman  Clay, 
In  consultation  with  his  own  thoughts. 

For  an  anxious  moment  Statesman  Clay  fears 
the  coming  of  that  signature;  he  cannot  con- 
ceive of  courage  greater  than  his  own.     His 

275 


WHEN      MEN     GREW     TALL 

anxiety  is  misplaced.  The  General  will  not 
sign.  When  the  Clay-constructed  measure  re- 
newing the  charter  of  the  Bank  is  laid  before 
him,  with  about  what  ado  might  attend  the 
killing  of  a  garter  snake  he  breaks  Its  back  with 
his  veto. 

Statesman  Clay  rubs  his  satisfied  hands. 

"  Now,"  says  he  to  Banker  BIddle,  who  is 
becoming  a  bit  weak,  "we  have  him  helpless! 
That  veto  Is  his  death  warrant !  The  campaign 
Is  at  hand;  I  shall  be  the  candidate  of  my 
party,  he  of  his.  That  veto  shall  be  the  Issue  I 
Money,  you  know.  Is  all  powerful.  Being  so, 
who  shall  doubt  the  result  when  now  the  pub- 
lic Is  driven  to  choose  between  the  Bank  and 
the  White  House  —  Prosperity  and  Andrew 
Jackson?" 


XXII 

THE    DOWNFALL    OF    MACHIA- 

VELLI    CLAY 


CHAPTER    XXII 

THE   DOWNFALL    OF   MACHIAVELLI    CLAY 

MACHIAVELLI  CLAY  Is  one  who 
looks  seldom  from  the  window  and 
often  In  the  glass.  No  man  carries 
himself  more  upon  the  back  of  his  own  regard 
than  does  Machlavelll  Clay.  He  believes  In  the 
wisdom  of  the  classes,  the  Ignorance  of  the 
masses,  and  thinks  that  government  should  be 
of  people,  by  statesmen,  for  statesmen.  Also 
he  has  a  profound  respect  for  Money,  and  little 
for  perishing  flesh  and  blood.  As  to  each  of 
these  thought-conditions  he  lives  In  head-on  col- 
lision with  the  General,  who  In  all  things  Is  his 
precise  contradiction. 

As  a  guide  by  which  the  popular  view  may 
direct  Itself,  Machlavelll  Clay  asks  the  Senate  to 
pass  a  vote  of  censure  upon  the  General.  With 
the  help  of  Statesman  Calhoun,  he  puts  it 
through.  The  Clay-Invoked  "  censure  "  strikes 
these  sparks  from  the  General: 

19  279 


WHEN      MEN     GREW    TALL 

"  Major,"  he  cries,  thinking  on  his  saw- 
handles  as  he  and  Wizard  Lewis  sit  with  their 
evening  pipes,  "  if  I  Hve  to  get  these  robes  of 
office  off,  I  may  yet  bring  that  rascal  to  a  dear 
account." 

Banker  Biddle,  now  when  his  precious  Bank 
for  its  life  or  death  will  be  made  the  campaign 
issue,  is  not  without  those  pale  misgivings  which 
ever  shake  the  livid  heart  of  Money  on  the  eve 
of  war.  Observing  this  knee-knocking  trepida- 
tion, Machiavelli  Clay  attempts  to  give  him 
courage.  This  is  no  difficult  task  for  Machia- 
velli Clay  to  undertake;  since,  in  his  native'  ig- 
norance of  the  popular,  he  harbors  no  doubt  of 
the  General's  downfall.  Also  he  extends  cheer- 
ing word  the  more  readily  to  the  quaking  Bank- 
er Biddle,  because  the  latter  and  his  jeopardized 
Bank  are  to  furnish  those  golden  sinews  of  war, 
which  will  be  required  for  the  Whig  campaign. 

Machiavelli  Clay  uplifts  the  confidence  of 
Banker  Biddle  to  a  point  where  the  latter,  from 
his  money  lair  in  Philadelphia,  writes  him  the 
following : 

"  He  (the  General)  has  all  the  fury  of  a 
chained  panther  biting  the  bars  of  its  cage — a 
condition  which  I  think  should  contribute  to  re- 
lieve the  country  of  the  tyranny  of  this  miser- 

280 


MACHIAVELLI     CLAY 

able  man.  You,  my  dear  sir,  are  destined  to  be 
the  instrument  of  that  dehverance,  and  at  no 
period  of  your  hfe  has  the  pubhc  had  a  deeper 
stake  in  you." 

In  so  writing  to  Machiavelli  Clay,  Banker 
Biddle  permits  his  hopes  to  overrun  his  intelli- 
gence. Machiavelli  Clay  is  not  to  become  "  the 
deliverer  "  of  his  hour,  nor  shall  the  ''  chained 
panther"  in  the  White  House  be  cast  out. 
Machiavelli  Clay,  however,  is  no  Elijah  gifted 
of  prophecy;  but,  on  the  wooden-witted  other 
hand,  proves  quite  as  besotted  touching  the  fu- 
ture as  does  Banker  Biddle.  He  replies  to  that 
financier  in  these  words: 

"  Fear  not;  there  shall  come  a  cleansing  of 
the  Augean  stables!  Our  cause  cannot  fail! 
That  veto  of  the  Bank  charter  is  a  broad  con- 
fession of  the  incompetency  of  the  Administra; 
tion,  and  shows  him  (the  General)  unfit  to 
carry  on  the  business  of  government.  I  think 
we  are  authorized  to  confidently  anticipate  his 
defeat." 

Now  when  the  candidates  of  the  Democratic 
party  are  about  to  be  named,  Statesman  Cal- 
houn foresees  that  he  himself  will  be  ignored, 
and  ex-Cabineteer  Van  Buren  supplant  him, 
nominationally,  for  the  place  of  Vice-President. 

281 


WHEN      MEN     GREW     TALL 

To  save  his  chagrin,  and  on  the  principle  that 
when  one  is  about  to  be  thrown  out  it  is  wise 
to  go  out,  he  resigns  from  his  vice-presiden- 
tial perch,  lays  down  the  Senate  gavel,  and 
returns  to  his  home-state  of  South  Carolina. 
Once  there,  following  the  Kentucky  example  of 
Machiavelli  Clay,  he  sees  to  it  that  his  own 
Legislature  returns  him  to  Washington  as  a 
Senator. 

Statesman  Calhoun  abandons  hope  of  mak- 
ing his  appearance  as  a  White  House  candidate 
in  the  campaign  at  hand.  What  then?  He  is 
of  middle  years,  and  can  wait.  He  will  lie  back 
and  watch  the  struggle  between  the  General 
and  Machiavelli  Clay.  Let  victory  fall  where 
it  may,  he.  Statesman  Calhoun,  will  prepare 
himself  for  his  own  sure  triumph  in  the  con- 
flict four  years  away.  Which  demonstrates 
that,  while  his  judgment  is  crippled,  his  ambi- 
tion stands  as  tall  and  as  straight  as  a  mountain 
pine. 

The  tickets  are  brought  to  the  field — the 
General  against  Machiavelli  Clay,  with  ex-Cab- 
ineteer  Van  Buren,  and  a  Whig  obscurity 
named  Sargent  running  for  second  place.  The 
issue  presents  the  alternative — the  General  or 
the  Bank,  humanity  in  a  death-hug  with  Money. 

282 


MACHIAVELLI     CLAY 

Machlavelli  Clay  and  Banker  BIddle  have  no 
fears;  for  they  are  gold-blind  and  can  see  noth- 
ing beyond  themselves.  They  are  given  a  rude 
awakening.  The  people  speak;  and  when  the 
sound  of  that  speaking  dies  out,  the  General  has 
overwhelmed  Machlavelli  Clay  with  two  hun- 
dred and  nineteen  electoral  votes  against  the 
latter's  sixty-nine.  Machlavelli  Clay  and  Bank- 
er Biddle  and  the  Bank  go  down,  while  the 
General — ever  the  conqueror  and  never  once 
the  conquered — sweeps  back  to  the  presidency. 
Also  ex-Cabineteer  Van  Buren  Is  made  Vice- 
President,  as  aforetime  resolved  upon  by  the 
General  and  Wizard  Lewis,  and  from  that 
Senate  eminence,  so  lately  vacated  by  Statesman 
Calhoun,  will  wield  the  gavel  over  togaed  dis- 
cussion. 

The  General,  President  the  second  time,  picks 
up  the  reins,  settles  himself  upon  the  box,  and 
proceeds  to  drive  his  governmental  times  after 
this  wise.  He  kills  out  what  few  sparks  of  life 
still  animate  the  Biddle  Bank.  He  removes  the 
Creeks  and  Cherokees  from  Florida  and  Geor- 
gia, and  thereby  guarantees  the  scalp  on  many 
an  Innocent  head.  He  throws  open  the  public 
lands  for  settlement  at  nominal  figures.  He 
fosters  a  gold  currency  and  discourages  paper. 

283 


WHEN      MEN     GREW     TALL 

He  pays  off  the  last  splinter  of  the  national 
debt,  and  offers  to  the  wondering  eyes  of  his- 
tory the  spectacle  of  a  country  that  doesn't  owe 
a  dollar.  He  makes  commercial  treaties  with 
every  tribe  of  Europe.  Finally,  he  compels 
France  to  pay  five  millions  in  gold  for  outrages 
long  ago  committed  upon  the  sailors  of  America. 

The  last  is  not  brought  about  without  some 
show  of  force.  France,  at  the  General's  de- 
mand, falls  into  a  white  heat  of  rage  and 
froths  for  instant  war.  The  General  takes 
France  at  her  warlike  word,  notifies  Congress, 
and  orders  his  fleet  into  the  Mediterranean,  the 
flagship  Constitution  in  the  van. 

The  cool  vigor  of  the  move  sets  France  gasp- 
ing. She  consults  England  across  the  Channel, 
and  is  privily  assured  that  whipping  a  Yankee 
eighty-gun  ship  Is  a  feat  so  difficult  of  marine 
accomplishment  that,  like  the  blossoming  of  the 
century  plant,  it  would  be  foolish  to  look  for  it 
oftener  than  once  In  one  hundred  years.  It  Is 
England's  impression,  whispered  in  the  Frank- 
ish  ear,  that  It  will  be  cheaper  to  pay  the  five 
millions.  Whereupon,  France  breaks  into  dip- 
lomatic smiles,  assures  the  General  that  her  late 
war-rage  was  mere  humor  and  her  froth  a  jest. 
And  pays. 

284 


MACHIAVELLI     CLAY 

By  way  of  a  little  junket,  the  General  visits 
New  England,  and  at  the  genial  sight  of  him 
that  chill  region  thaws  like  icicles  in  July.  In- 
deed, the  New  England  temperature  rises  to  a 
height  where  Harvard  College  confers  upon 
the  General  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws.  At 
which  Statesman  Adams  nurses  his  wrath  with 
this  entry  in  his  sour  diary: 

"  Seminaries  of  learning  have  been  time- 
servers  and  sycophants  in  every  age." 

The  General  has  done  his  people  many  a 
service.  He  has  defended  them  from  savage 
Red  Stick  Creeks,  and  savage  Red-coat  English 
with  their  war  cry  of  "  Beauty  and  Booty!  " 
Now  he  will  do  his  foremost  work  of  all,  and 
buckler  them  against  the  javelins  of  treason, 
save  them  from  between  the  jaws  of  a  con- 
spiracy— wolfish  and  widespread  for  national 
destruction. 

The  conspiracy  has  its  birth  in  the  ambition- 
crazed  bosom  of  Statesman  Calhoun;  Its  shlbo- 
leth  is  "  Nullification!  " 

"  I  would  sooner,"  said  Csesar,  when  his 
courtiers  were  laughing  at  the  pompous  mayor 
of  a  little  mud  town  In  Spain — "  I  would 
sooner  be  first  here  than  second  In  Rome !  " 
And,  centuries  after,  the  sentiment  wakes  a  re- 

285 


WHEN      MEN     GREW    TALL 


sponslve  echo  In  the  jealous  breast  of  Statesman 
Calhoun. 

Statesman  Calhoun  aims  to  follow  the  Gen- 
eral In  the  headship  of  American  affairs.  De- 
feated of  that,  he  Is  resolved  to  sever  those 
constitutional  links  which  bind  his  home-state 
of  South  Carolina  to  her  sister  States  In  Federal 
Union,  and  declare  her  a  nation  by  and  of 
herself. 

In  his  new  role  of  "  seceder,"  Statesman  Cal- 
houn makes  this  Impression  on  the  English 
Harriet  Martlneau.  After  speaking  of  him  as 
Involving  himself  tighter  and  tighter  In  spin- 
nings of  political  mysticism  and  fantastic  specu- 
lation, she  calls  him  a  "  cast-Iron  man  "  and 
says: 

"He  (Calhoun)  Is  eager,  absorbed,  over- 
speculative.  I  know  of  no  one  who  lives  In 
such  intellectual  solitude.  He  meets  men  and 
harangues  them  by  the  fireside  as  In  the  Senate. 
He  is  wrought  like  a  piece  of  machinery,  set 
going  vehemently  by  a  weight,  and  stops  while 
you  answer.  He  either  passes  by  what  you  say, 
or  twists  It  Into  suitability  with  what  is  in  his 
head,  and  begins  to  lecture  again.  He  Is  full 
of  his  '  Nullification,'  and  those  who  know  the 
force  that  Is  in  him  and  his  utter  incapacity  for 
modification  by  other  minds,  will  no  more  ex- 

286 


MACHIAVELLI     CLAY 

pect  repose  and  self-retention  from  him  than 
from  a  volcano  in  full  force.  Relaxation  is  no 
longer  in  the  power  of  his  will.  I  never  saw 
anyone  who  gave  me  so  completely  the  idea  of 
'  possession.'  " 

By  which  the  English  woman  would  say  that 
she  thinks  Statesman  Calhoun  insane.  She 
overstates,  however,  his  "  Incapacity  for  modi- 
fication "  and  "  self-retention."  There  will 
come  a  day  when  he  does  not  pause,  nor  close 
his  eyes  in  sleep,  between  Washington  and  his 
home  In  South  Carolina,  such  is  his  fear-spurred 
eagerness — with  the  shadow  of  the  gibbet  all 
across  him ! — to  stamp  out  what  fires  of  treason 
he  has  been  at  pains  to  kindle,  and  avoid  that 
halter  w^hlch  the  General  promises  as  their  re- 
ward. 

It  is  in  Senate  debate  that  Statesman  Calhoun 
removes  the  mask  from  his  intended  treason, 
and  gives  the  w^orld  a  glimpse  of  Its  blackness. 
He  threatens,  unless  the  tariff  be  changed  to 
match  his  pleasure,  that  South  Carolina  will 
prevent  its  enforcement  within  her  borders. 
He  declares  South  Carolina  superior  to  the  na- 
tion in  her  powers,  and  proclaims  for  her  the 
right  to  "  nullify  "  what  Federal  laws  she  deems 
mimical  to  her  peculiar  interest.    He  shows  how 

287 


WHEN      MEN     GREW     TALL 

South  Carolina  will,  as  against  the  tariff  con- 
templated, Invoke  that  Inherent  right  to  "  nul- 
lify," and  says,  should  the  Washington  govern- 
ment attempt  to  coerce  her,  she  will  take  herself 
out  of  the  Union. 

To  this  exposition  of  States  rights,  the  Gen- 
eral In  the  White  House  listens  with  gathering 
scorn.     He  turns  to  Wizard  Lewis : 

"  Why,  sir,"  he  cries,  addressing  that  Merlin 
of  politics,  *'  If  one  Is  to  believe  Calhoun,  the 
Union  Is  like  a  bag  of  meal  open  at  both  ends. 
No  matter  how  you  pick  It  up,  the  meal  all  runs 
out.    I  shall  tie  the  bag  and  save  the  country!  " 

Treason,  however  base,  will  have  Its  friends, 
and  Statesman  Calhoun  goes  not  without  ''  Nul- 
lification "  followers.  In  his  own  mischievous 
State  the  doctrine  is  received  with  open  arms. 
The  Governor  Issues  his  proclamation;  a  con- 
vention of  the  people  is  authorized  by  the 
Legislature.  They  are  to  meet  at  Colum- 
bia and  settle  the  details  of  "  Nullification  " 
in  Its  practical  workings  out.  They  do  meet; 
and  adopt  unanimously  an  "  Ordinance  of  Nul- 
lification "  which  declares  the  tariff  just  made 
in  Washington  *'  Null,  void,  and  no  law,  nor 
binding  upon  this  State,  its  oflicers  or  citizens." 
They  decree  that  no  duties,  enjoined  by  such 

288 


5^1^^  ^^^^:^ 


MACHIAVELLI     CLAY 

tariff,  shall  be  paid  or  permitted  to  be  paid  in 
any  port  of  South  Carolina.  The  closing  as- 
sertion of  the  "  Ordinance  "  runs  that,  should 
the  Government  of  the  United  States  try  by 
force  to  collect  the  tariff  duties,  *'  The  people 
of  South  Carolina  will  thenceforth  hold  them- 
selves absolved  from  all  further  obligation  to 
maintain  or  preserve  their  political  connection 
with  the  people  of  the  other  States,  and  will 
proceed  to  organize  a  separate  government,  and 
do  all  other  acts  and  things  which  sovereign 
and  independent  States  may  of  right  do." 

Following  this  doughty  setting-out  of  what 
one  might  call  the  Palmetto-rattlesnake  position, 
the  Governor  suggests  military  associations  on 
the  model  of  the  Minute  Men  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  makes  ready  for  what  blood-letting 
shall  be  required  to  sustain  Statesman  Calhoun 
in  his  new  preachment.  Altogether  it  is  a  South 
Carolina  day  of  bombast  and  blue  cockades, 
with  Statesman  Calhoun  already  chosen  as  the 
president  of  a  coming  "  Southern  Confederacy." 

While  these  dour  matters  are  in  process  of 
Palmetto  transaction.  Statesman  Hayne  encoun- 
ters the  lion-faced  Webster  on  the  floor  of  the 
Senate,  and  the  latter  establishes  forever  the 
rightful  supremacy  of  the  Federal  Union,  and 

289 


WHEN      MEN     GREW     TALL 

demonstrates  that  the  '^  Nullification  "  set  up 
by  Statesman  Calhoun  Is  but  the  chimera  of  a 
jaundiced,  ambition-bitten  mind.  Thus  canters 
the  hour  in  the  Senate  and  in  South  Carolina; 
while  up  in  the  White  House  the  General  sits 
reading  a  book. 


XXIII 

THE    FEDERAL    UNION:    IT 
MUST    BE    PRESERVED 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

THE  FEDERAL  UNION:  IT  MUST  BE  PRESERVED 

THE  General  Is  reading  his  book,  when 
in  walks  Wizard  Lewis.  The  latter 
necromancer  casually  alludes  to 
Statesman  Calhoun,  and  his  pet  Infamy  of 
"  Nullification."  At  this  the  General's  honest 
rage  begins  to  mount. 

"  You  bear  witness.  Major,"  he  cries — "  you 
bear  witness  how  Calhoun  Is  trying  me !  But 
by  the  living  heavens,  I'll  uphold  the  law!" 
Then,  shaking  the  ponderous  tome  at  Wizard 
Lewis,  his  finger  marking  the  place — "  Here ! 
I've  been  reading  what  old  John  Marshall  said 
in  the  case  of  Aaron  Burr.  He  makes  treason 
in  its  definition  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff.  A  man 
can't  think  treason ;  he  can't  talk  treason ;  he  can 
only  act  treason.  It  requires  an  act — an  overt 
act!  Calhoun  Is  safe  while  he  only  talks  or 
conspires.  But  let  one  of  his  followers  perform 
one  act  of  opposition  to  the  law,  even  if  It  be  no 

293 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

more  than  hand  on  sword  hilt  or  just  the  snap- 
ping of  a  fireless  flint  against  an  empty  rifle- 
pan,  and  I  have  him.  There  would  be  the  overt 
act  demanded  by  old  Marshall;  and  he  goes  on 
to  say  that  the  overt  act,  once  committed,  at- 
taches to  all  of  the  conspirators  and  becomes 
the  act  of  each.  I  shall  keep  my  ear  as  well 
as  my  eye,  Major,  on  Calhoun's  State  of  South 
Carolina;  and,  at  the  first  crackling  of  a  treas- 
onable twig  beneath  a  traitorous  foot,  Into  a 
felon's  cell  goes  he.  Then  we  shall  see  what  a 
hempen  noose  will  do  for  him  and  his  '  Nulli- 
fication.' " 

The  General,  the  better  to  deliver  this  long 
oration,  gets  up  and  walks  the  floor.  Having 
concluded,  down  he  drops  into  his  chair  again, 
and  to  grubbing  at  old  John  Marshall. 

The  General  and  Wizard  Lewis  decide  that 
a  perfect  White  House  silence  concerning 
*'  Nullification  "  is  the  proper  course.  The 
General  will  sit  mute,  and  never  by  so  much 
as  the  arching  of  a  bushy  brow  intimate  what 
he  will  do,  should  Statesman  Calhoun  push  his 
treason  to  that  last  extreme — that  overt  act  of 
opposition  to  the  Federal  law  and  its  enforce- 
ment, demanded  by  the  great  Chief  Justice. 
And  so,  while  arises  all  this  turmoil  of  treason 

294 


THE     FEDERAL     UNION 

in  the  Senate  and  South  Carolina,  the  White 
House  is  as  voiceless  as  a  tomb. 

While  the  General  is  silent,  he  is  in  no  sort 
idle.  He  makes  secret  preparations  to  bruise 
the  head  of  the  serpent  of  secession  with  a  heel 
of  steel.  He  sends  General  Scott  to  South  Caro- 
lina. Into  Castle  Pinckney  he  conveys  thou- 
sands of  rifles.  One  by  one  his  warships  drop 
into  Charleston  harbor,  until,  with  broadsides 
trained  upon  the  town,  scores  of  them  ride  at 
ominous  anchor. 

The  General  gets  word  to  his  ever-reliable 
Coffee.  In  those  well-nigh  twenty  years  which 
have  come  and  gone  since  the  English  were 
swept  up  in  fire  at  New  Orleans,  the  hunting- 
shirt  men  in  the  General's  country  of  Tennes- 
see have  increased  and  multiplied.  Their  num- 
bers are  such  that  at  the  end  of  twenty  days  the 
energetic  Coffee  stands  ready  to  cataract  twenty- 
five  thousand  of  them  into  South  Carolina 
at  the  lifting  of  the  General's  bony  finger, 
and  follow  these  In  forty  days  with  twenty-five 
thousand  more.  Not  content  with  his  fifty 
thousand  hunting-shirt  men  from  Tennessee, 
the  General  arranges  for  an  equal  force  from 
North  Carolina  and  Georgia. 

If  ever  a  people  stood  within  the  shadow  of 
20  295 


WHEN      MEN     GREW     TALL 

doom  it  Is  our  treason-forging  ones  of  South 
Carolina  in  these  days  of  Nullification,  Colum- 
bia Conventions,  Minute  Men,  and  Blue  Cock- 
ades. 

Some  of  them  are  not  so  dim  of  eye  but 
what  they  perceive  as  much,  and  begin  to  catch 
their  breath.  Still  a  wrong,  once  it  be  set  roll- 
ing like  a  stone  down  hill,  is  difficult  to  over- 
take and  stop.  So,  while  the  heart  of  would-be 
Treason  beats  a  little  faster,  and  its  cheek  turns 
a  little  whiter,  as  inklings  of  what  the  wordless 
General  is  doing  begin  to  creep  about  among 
Palmetto-rattlesnake  coteries,  the  work  of  mak- 
ing ready  for  black  revolt  proceeds. 

In  Washington,  that  grim  silence  of  the 
White  House  grows  oppressive.  There  be 
prudent  ones,  among  the  nullifying  adherents 
of  Statesman  Calhoun,  who  are  willing  to  play 
the  part  of  traitor  If  no  peril  attend  the  role. 
They  are  highly  averse  to  the  character  if  it 
promise  to  thrust  their  sensitive  necks  into  gal- 
lows danger.  The  questions  everywhere  on  the 
whispering  lips  of  these  timid  treason  mongers 
are: 

"  What  is  the  Jackson  intention?  What  will 
the  President  do?  Will  he  look  upon  Nullifi- 
cation  as  merely  some   minor  sin   of  politics? 

296 


THE     FEDERAL     UNION 

Or,  will  he  treat  it  as  stark  treason,  and  fall 
back  on  courts  and  hangman's  ropes?" 

No  one  answers,  for  no  one  knows.  As  for 
the  General  himself,  his  lips  are  as  dumb  as 
a  statue's.  Traitors  may  go  wrong,  or  go 
right;  he  will  light  no  lamp  for  their  guidance. 
The  awful  suspense  is  carrying  many  of  the 
treason  mongers  to  the  brink  of  hysteria.  Even 
Statesman  Calhoun,  morbid  and  ambition-mad, 
is  made  to  pause.  He  himself  begins  to  wonder 
if  It  would  not  be  as  well  and  as  wise  to  meas- 
ure in  advance  those  iron-bound  anti-treason 
lengths  to  which  the  General  stands  ready  to 

go- 

To  help  them  in  their  perplexity,  Statesman 

Calhoun  and  his  Nullifying  followers  evolve  a 
cunning  scheme.  In  its  amiable  execution,  it 
should  lay  bare,  they  think,  the  purposes  of 
the  General.  Statesman  Calhoun  and  his  co- 
conspirators have  long  ago  laid  claim  to  the 
dead  Jefferson  as  their  patron  saint  of  ''  Nul- 
lification," asserting  that  precious  tenet  to  be 
his  invention.  They  decide  to  give  a  dinner 
in  honor  of  the  departed  publicist.  The  din- 
ner shall  take  place  on  the  dead  Jefferson's 
birthday  at  the  Indian  Queen.  The  General 
shall  come  as  a  guest.     Statesman  Calhoun  and 

297 


WHEN      MEN     GREW     TALL 

his  co-conspirators  will  be  there.  Statesman 
Calhoun  will  offer  a  toast,  declaratory  of  those 
superior  rights  over  the  Federal  government 
which  he  asserts  in  favor  of  the  separate  States. 
It  shall  be  a  Nullification  toast,  one  redolent 
of  a  State's  right  to  secede  from  the  Federal 
Union. 

Statesman  Calhoun  having  launched  his  fire- 
ship  of  sentiment,  the  General  will  be  requested 
to  give  a  toast.  Should  he  comply,  it  is  be- 
lieved by  Statesman  Calhoun  and  his  co-con- 
spirators that  he  will  in  partial  measure  at 
least  unlock  his  plans.  If  he  refuse — why  then, 
under  the  circumstances,  his  refusal  will  be 
pregnant  of  meaning.  In  either  event,  he  will 
be  beneath  the  batteries  of  five  hundred  eyes, 
and  much  should  be  read  in  his  face. 

That  Jefferson  dinner  is  an  admirable  device, 
one  adapted  to  draw  the  General's  fire.  Its 
authors  go  about  felicitating  themselves  upon 
their  sagacity  in  evolving  it. 

"  What  say  you,  Major?  "  asks  the  General, 
when  he  receives  the  invitation  upon  which  so 
much  of  national  good  or  ill  may  pend;  "  what 
say  you?  Shall  we  humor  them?  You  know 
what  these  Calhoun  traitors  are  after." 

*'True!"    responds   Wizard   Lewis;    "they 

298 


THE     FEDERAL     UNION 

want  to  count  us,  and  measure  us,  In  that  busi- 
ness of  their  proposed  treason." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think,"  says  the  Gen- 
eral, after  a  pause.  "  I'll  fail  to  attend;  but 
you  shall  go,  and  be  counted  in  my  stead.  Also, 
since  they'll  expect  a  toast  from  me,  I'll  send 
them  one  in  your  care.  I  hope  they  may  find 
It  to  their  villain  liking — they  and  their  arch- 
traitor  Calhoun!  " 

The  Indian  Queen  is  a  crowded  hostelry  that 
Jefferson  night.  The  halls  and  waiting  rooms 
are  thronged  of  eminent  folk.  Some  are  there 
to  attend  the  dinner;  others  for  gossip  and  to 
hear  the  news.  As  Wizard  Lewis  climbs  the 
stairs  to  the  banquet  room  on  the  second  floor, 
he  encounters  the  lion-faced  Webster  coming 
down. 

"  There's  too  much  secession  in  the  air  for 
me,"  says  the  lion-faced  one,  shrugging  his 
heavy  shoulders. 

"  If  that  be  so,"  returns  Wizard  Lewis,  "  it's 
a  reason  for  remaining." 

Wizard  Lewis  mingles  with  the  groups  In 
the  corridors  and  parlors,  for  the  banquet  hall 
Is  not  yet  thrown  open.  Among  these,  he  nods 
his  recognition  of  Colonel  Johnson,  of  Ken- 
tucky, tall  of  form,  grave  of  brow,  he  who  slew 

299 


WHEN      MEN     GREW    TALL 

Tecumseh;  Senator  Benton,  once  of  that  safe 
receptive  cellar;  the  lean  Rufus  Choate,  eaten 
of  Federalism  and  the  worship  of  caste;  Tom 
Corwin,  round,  humorous,  with  a  face  of  ruddy 
fun;  Isaac  Hill,  gray  and  lame,  the  General's 
Senate  friend  from  New  Hampshire  whose  In- 
sulted credit  started  the  war  on  Banker  BIddle's 
bank;  Editor  Noah,  of  New  York,  as  Hebraic 
and  as  red  of  head  as  Absalom;  the  quick-eyed 
Amos  Kendall;  Editor  Blair,  who  conducts  the 
Globe^  the  General's  mouthpiece  In  Washing- 
ton; the  reckless  Marcy,  who  declares  that  he 
sees  "  no  harm  In  the  aphorism  that  '  to  the  vic- 
tor belong  the  spoils  of  the  enemy.'  " 

The  dinner  Is  spread.  The  decorations  are 
studied  In  their  democracy.  Hundreds  of  can- 
dles In  many-armed  Iron  branches  blaze  and 
gutter  about  the  great  room.  The  high  ceil- 
ings and  the  walls  are  festooned  of  flags.  The 
stars  and  stripes  are  draped  over  a  portrait  of 
the  dead  Jefferson.  Here  and  there  are  hung 
the  flags  of  the  several  States.  With  peculiar 
ostentation,  and  as  though  for  challenge,  next 
to  the  national  colors  flows  the  Palmetto- 
rattlesnake  flag  of  South  Carolina — Statesman 
Calhoun's  emblem. 

The  dinner  Is  profuse,  and  folk  of  appetite 

300 


THE     FEDERAL     UNION 

and  fineness  declare  it  elegant.  There  is  none 
of  your  long-drawn  courses,  so  dear  to  Whigs 
and  Federalists.  Black  servants  come  and  go, 
to  shift  plates  and  knives,  and  carve  at  the  call 
of  a  guest.  At  hopeful  intervals  along  the 
tables  repose  huge  sirloins,  and  steaming  rounds 
of  beef.  There  are  quail  pies;  chickens  fried 
and  turkeys  roasted;  pies  of  venison  and  rab- 
bits, and  pot  pies  of  squirrels;  soups  and  fishes 
and  vegetables;  boiled  hams,  and  giant  dishes 
of  earthenware  holding  baked  beans;  roast 
suckling  pigs,  each  with  a  crab-apple  in  his 
jaws;  corn  breads  and  flour  breads,  and  pan- 
cakes rolled  with  jellies;  puddings  —  Indian, 
rice,  and  plum ;  mammoth  quaking  custards. 
Everywhere  bristle  ranks  and  double  ranks  of 
bottles  and  decanters;  a  widest  range  of  drinks, 
from  whisky  to  wine  of  the  Cape,  Is  at  every- 
body's elbow.  Also  on  side  tables  stand  wooden 
bowls  of  salads,  supported  by  weighty  cheeses; 
and,  to  close  in  the  flanks,  pies — mince,  pump- 
kin, and  apple;  with  final  coffee  and  slim, 
long  pipes  of  clay  in  which  to  smoke  tobacco 
of  Trinidad. 

As  the  guests  seat  themselves.  Chairman  Lee 
proposes : 

"  The  memory  of  Thomas  Jefferson." 

301 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

The  toast  is  drunk  in  silence.  Then,  with 
clatter  of  knife  and  fork,  clink  of  glasses,  and 
hum  of  conversation,  the  feast  begins. 

The  General's  absence  Is  a  daunting  surprise 
to  many  who  do  not  know  how  to  construe  It. 
Wizard  Lewis,  through  Chairman  Lee,  pre- 
sents the  General's  regrets.  He  expected  to  be 
present,  but  Is  unavoidably  detained  at  the 
White  House.  The  "  regrets "  are  received 
uneasily;  the  General's  absence  plainly  gives 
concern  to  more  than  one. 

As  the  dinner  marches  forward,  "  Nullifica- 
tion "  and  secession  are  much  and  loudly  talked. 
They  become  so  openly  the  burden  of  conversa- 
tion and  are  withal  so  loosely  In  the  common 
air,  that  sundry  gentlemen  —  more  timorous 
than  loyal  perhaps  —  make  pointless  excuses, 
and  withdraw. 

Statesman  Calhoun  sits  on  the  right  hand 
of  Chairman  Lee.  The  festival  approaches  the 
glass  and  bottle  stage,  and  toasts  are  offered. 
There  are  a  round  score  of  these;  each  smells 
of  secession  and  State's  rights.  The  speeches 
which  follow  are  even  more  malodorous  of 
treason  than  the  toasts. 

The  hour  Is  hurrying  toward  the  late. 
Statesman  Calhoun  whispers  a  word  to  Chalr- 

302 


THE     FEDERAL     UNION 

man  Lee;  evidently  the  urgent  moment  Is   at 
hand. 

Statesman  Calhoun  hands  a  slip  of  paper 
to  Chairman  Lee.  There  falls  a  stillness; 
laughter  dies  and  talk  Is  hushed. 

Chairman  Lee  rises  to  his  feet.  He  pays 
Statesman  Calhoun  many  flowery  compliments. 

"  The  distinguished  statesman  from  South 
Carolina,"  says  Chairman  Lee  In  conclusion, 
*'  begs  to  propose  this  sentiment."  He  reads 
from  the  slip :  "  '  The  Federal  Union  !  Next  to 
our  liberty,  the  most  dear !  May  we  all  remem- 
ber that  It  can  only  be  preserved  by  respecting 
the  rights  of  the  States,  and  distributing  equally 
the  burdens  and  the  benefits  of  that  Union! 

The  stillness  of  death  continues  —  marked 
and  profound;  for,  as  Chairman  Lee  resumes 
his  seat,  Wizard  Lewis  rises.  All  know  his  re- 
lations with  the  General;  every  eye  Is  on  him 
with  a  look  of  Interrogation.  Now  when  the 
Calhoun  toast  has  been  read,  they  scan  the  face 
of  Wizard  Lewis,  representative  of  the  absent 
General,  to  note  the  effect  of  the  shot.  Wiz- 
ard Lewis  is  admirable,  and  notably  steady. 

"  The  President,"  says  Wizard  Lewis, 
"  when  he  sent  his  regrets,  sent  also  a  senti- 
ment." 

3^3 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

Wizard    Lewis    passes    a    folded    paper    to 
Chairman  Lee,  who  opens  it  and  reads: 

^' *  The  Federal  Union!  It  must  be  pre- 
served! '  " 

The  words  fall  clear  as  a  bell — for  some, 
perhaps,  a  bell  of  warning.  Statesman  Cal- 
houn's face  Is  high  and  Insolent.  But  only  for 
a  moment.  Then  his  glance  falls;  his  brow 
becomes  pallid,  and  breaks  Into  a  pin-point 
sprinkle  of  sweat.  He  seems  to  shrink  and  sear 
and  wither,  as  though  given  some  fleeting  pic- 
ture of  the  future,  and  the  gallows  prophecy 
thereof.  In  the  end  he  sits  as  though  in  a  kind 
of  blackness  of  despair.  The  General  Is  not 
there,  but  his  words  are  there,  and  Statesman 
Calhoun  Is  not  wanting  of  an  Impression  of  the 
terrible  meaning,  personal  to  himself,  which 
underlies  them. 

It  Is  a  moment  ominous  and  mighty — a  mo- 
ment when  a  plot  to  stampede  history  is  foiled 
by  a  sentiment,  and  Treason's  heart  and  Trea- 
son's hand  are  palsied  by  a  toast  of  seven 
words.  And  while  Statesman  Calhoun,  white 
and  frightened  and  broken,  Is  helpless  In  the 
midst  of  his  followers,  the  General  sits  alone 
and  thoughtful  with  his  quiet  White  House 
pipe. 

304 


THE     FEDERAL     UNION 

For  all  the  plain  sureness  of  that  toast,  the 
would-be  rebellionlsts  now  crave  a  surer  sign. 
A  member  of  Congress  from  South  Carolina, 
polite  and  insinuating,  calls  on  the  General. 

"  Mr.  President,"  says  the  insinuating  sign- 
seeking  one,  suavely  deferential,  "  to-morrow  I 
go  back  to  my  home.  Have  you  any  message 
for  the  good  folk  of  South  Carolina?  " 

"  Yes,"  returns  the  General  grimly,  his  hard 
blue  eyes  upon  the  insinuating  one,  while  his 
heavy  brows  are  lowered  in  that  falcon-trick  of 
menace — "  yes;  I  have  a  message  for  the  '  good 
folk  of  South  Carolina.'  You  may  say  to  the 
'  good  folk  of  South  Carolina  '  that  if  one  of 
them  so  much  as  lift  finger  in  defiance  of  the 
laws  of  this  government,  I  shall  come  down 
there.  And  I'll  hang  the  first  man  I  lay  hands 
on,  to  the  first  tree  I  can  reach." 


XXIV 
THE    ROUT    OF    TREASON 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

THE   ROUT   OF   TREASON 

DEMOCRACY  goes  not  without  Its  de- 
fects, and  there  be  times  when  that 
very  freedom  wherewith  It  Invests 
the  citizen  spreads  a  snare  to  his  feet.  For  a 
chief  fault,  Democracy  Is  apt  to  mislead  am- 
bitious ones,  dominated  of  ego  and  a  want  of 
patriotism  In  even  parts.  Such  are  prone  to 
run  liberty  Into  license  In  following  forth  the 
appetites  of  their  own  selfishness,  and  forget 
where  the  frontiers  of  loyalty  leave  off  and 
those  of  black  treason  begin. 

In  a  democracy,  for  your  clambering  nar- 
rowlst  to  turn  traitor  Is  never  a  far-fetched  task. 
Being  free  to  speak  as  he  politically  will  and, 
per  Incident,  think  as  he  poHtlcally  will,  he  finds 
it  no  mighty  journey  to  the  perilous  assumption 
that  he  may  act  as  he  politically  will.  Know- 
ing his  duty  to  guard  the  temple,  he  argues 
therefrom  his  right  to  deface  It.    Treason  fades 

309 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

into  a  mere  abstraction — a  crime  curious  in  this, 
that  It  is  impossible  of  concrete  commission. 

Statesman  Calhoun  is  among  these  ill-guided 
ones  of  topsy-turvy  patriotism.  Blurred  by 
ambition,  soured  of  disappointment,  license  and 
liberty  have  grown  with  him  to  be  unconscious 
synonyms.  The  laws  against  treason  carry 
only  a  remonstrance,  never  a  warning,  and — as 
he  reads  them — but  deplore  that  civic  villainy, 
while  threatening  nothing  of  grief  for  what 
dark  souls  shall  be  guilty  of  it.  In  this  frame 
the  General's  stark  sentiment,  "  The  Federal 
Union !  It  must  be  preserved !  "  and  that  sub- 
sequent hanging  promise  which,  by  the  mouth 
of  the  suave  Insinuating  one,  he  sends  to  "  the 
good  folk  of  South  Carolina,"  go  beyond  sur- 
prise with  Statesman  Calhoun,  and  provide  a 
shock.  It  Is  as  though,  walking  in  a  trance  of 
treason,  he  knocks  his  head  against  the  White 
House  wall;  his  awakening  Is  rudely,  painfully 
complete.  That  dream  of  a  separate  nation, 
with  himself  at  its  head,  gives  way  to  hangman 
visions  of  rope  and  gallows  tree;  and,  from 
bending  his  energies  to  methods  by  which  he 
may  take  South  Carolina  out  of  the  Union,  he 
gives  himself  wholly  to  the  more  tremulous 
enterprise  of  keeping  himself  out  of  jail. 

310 


THE      ROUT      OF     TREASON 

Some  hint  of  that  recent  literature,  which  the 
General  found  so  Interesting,  gets  abroad,  and 
many  go  reading  the  lucid  dictum  of  old  Mar- 
shall. Treason  as  a  crime  becomes  better  un- 
derstood; and — by  Statesman  Calhoun  at  least 
— better  feared.  Moved  of  these  fears,  States- 
man Calhoun  sends  message  after  message  into 
his  restless  Palmetto-rattlesnake  State  of  South 
Carolina  commanding,  nay  imploring,  a  present 
suspension  of  "  Nullification."  His  Palmetto- 
rattlesnake  adherents,  while  not  understanding 
the  danger  which  fringes  them  about,  have  al- 
ready found  enough  that  is  alarming  In  the 
very  air;  and,  for  their  own  safety  as  much 
as  his,  are  heedful  to  regard  that  prayer  for  a 
"  Nullification  "  passivity.  The  South  Caro- 
lina shouting  ceases;  the  Minute  Men  rest  on 
their  traitorous  arms;  the  manufacture  of  blue 
cockades  Is  abandoned;  while  the  Columbia 
convention  devotes  Itself  to  Innocuous  adjourn- 
ments from  Innocent  day  to  day. 

While  Palmetto-rattlesnake  alYalrs  are  thus 
timidly  quiescent,  the  Senate  Itself  —  having 
read  old  Marshall,  and  being,  moreover,  some- 
what Instructed  by  the  watchful  attitude  of  the 
General,  who  sits  In  the  White  House  a  figure 
of  frowning  menace,  both  relentless  and  fateful 
21  311 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

— devotes  itself  to  the  scaffold  extrication  of 
Statesman  Calhoun.  Machiavelli  Clay  leads 
the  rescue  party.  His  is  of  an  opposite  politi- 
cal  church  to  that  of  Statesman  Calhoun;  but 
the  pair  meet  on  the  warm,  common  ground  of 
a  deathless  hatred  of  the  General.  Under  the 
mollifying  guidance  of  Machiavelli  Clay,  Sena- 
tor after  Senator  surrenders  those  pet  schedules 
of  tariff  desired  of  his  own  people,  and  puts 
the  surrender  on  the  expressive  basis  of  "  saving 
the  neck  of  Calhoun." 

When  every  possible  tariff  cut  has  been  ar- 
ranged, and  Congress  adjourns.  Statesman  Cal- 
houn makes  his  memorable  homeward  flight. 
Horse  after  horse  he  rides  down,  night  becomes 
as  day;  for  Death  crouches  on  his  crupper,  and 
he  must  stay  the  Nullifying  hand  of  South 
Carolina  to  save  his  own  neck.  He  succeeds 
beyond  his  deserts,  and  comes  powdering  into 
Columbia,  worn  and  wan  and  anxious,  yet  none 
the  less  ahead  of  that  "  overt  act  "  whereof  old 
Marshall  spoke,  and  for  which  the  somber  Gen- 
eral waits. 

Once  among  his  own  treason-hatching  co- 
terie. Statesman  Calhoun  loses  no  moments,  but 
breaks  up  the  ''  Nullification  "  nest.  Secession 
dies  in  the  shell,  and  the  Columbia  convention, 

312 


THE      ROUT     OF     TREASON 

with  more  speed  even  than  It  displayed  In  pass- 
ing It,  repeals  that  "  Ordinance  of  Nullifica- 
tion.'* Thereupon  Statesman  Calhoun  draws 
his  breath  more  freely,  as  one  who  has  been 
grazed  by  the  sinister  fangs  of  Fate;  while  the 
Inveterate  General  heaves  a  sigh  of  regret. 

Wizard  Lewis  overhears  the  sigh,  and  ques- 
tions It.  At  this  the  General  explains  his  dis- 
appointment. 

"  It  would  have  been  better,"  says  he,  "  had 
we  shed  a  little  blood.  This  Is  not  the  end. 
Major;  the  serpent  of  treason  Is  only  bruised, 
not  slain.  Had  Calhoun  run  his  course,  a 
handful  of  hundreds  might  have  died.  As  af- 
fairs stand,  however,  the  country  must  one  day 
wade  knee-deep  In  blood  to  save  Itself.  These 
men  are  not  honest.  Their  true  purpose  is  the 
downfall  of  the  Union.  Their  present  pretext 
is  tariff;  next  time  It  will  be  slavery." 

By  way  of  bringing  the  Iniquity  of  "  Nul- 
lification "  before  the  people,  together  with  his 
views  concerning  It,  the  General  seizes  his  big 
Iron  pen,  and  scratches  off  a  proclamation. 

**  I  consider,"  says  he,  "  the  power  to  annul 
a  law  of  the  United  States,  assumed  by  one 
State,  Incompatible  with  the  existence  of  the 
Union,  contradicted  expressly  by  the  Constltu- 

3^3 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

tlon,  unauthorized  by  either  Its  letter  or  Its 
spirit,  inconsistent  with  every  principle  upon 
which  It  was  founded,  and  destructive  of  the 
great  object  for  which  It  was  formed." 

The  country,  reading  the  GeneraFs  exposi- 
tion of  the  Union  and  Its  Gibraltar-like  char- 
acter, breaks  Into  bonfires,  oratory,  dinners, 
barbecues,  parades,  and  what  other  schemes  of 
jubilation  are  practiced  by  a  free  people.  That 
Is  to  say  the  country  breaks  Into  these  sundry 
jubilant  things,  If  one  except  the  truant  State  of 
South  Carolina.  In  that  Palmetto-rattlesnake- 
ridden  commonwealth  there  prevails  a  sulky 
silence.  No  bonfires  blaze,  no  barbecues  scorch, 
no  dinners  smoke,  no  parades  march.  Baffled 
In  Its  would-be  treasons,  afraid  to  stretch  forth 
its  nullifying  hand  lest  the  sword  of  retribu- 
tion strike  It  off  at  the  wrist.  It  comports  Itself 
like  a  spoiled  child  thwarted,  and  upholds  Its 
little  dignity  with  a  pout.  No  one  heeds,  how- 
ever; and,  beyond  an  occasional  baleful  glance 
from  the  General,  the  rest  of  the  world  leaves 
It  to  recover  from  that  pout  In  Its  own  time  and 
way. 

When  Congress  reconvenes.  Statesman  Cal- 
houn creeps  back  to  his  Senate  place.  But  the 
perils  through  which  he  has  passed  have  left 

3^^ 


THE      ROUT     OF     TREASON 

their  furrowing  traces,  and  now  he  offers  noth- 
ing, says  nothing,  does  nothing.  His  heart  Is 
water;  his  evil  potentialities  have  oozed  away. 
Haunted  of  that  hangman  fear  which  still  hag- 
rides  him,  he  abides  mute,  motionless,  Impo- 
tent, like  some  Satan  In  chains. 

To  further  wound  Statesman  Calhoun,  and 
in  the  mean,  protesting  teeth  of  Machlavelli 
Clay,  the  Senate  expunges  from  Its  record  the 
vote  of  censure  It  once  passed  upon  the  Gen- 
eral. The  resolution  to  expunge  Is  offered  by 
Senator  Benton  who,  as  against  a  far-off  Nash- 
ville hour  when  only  a  generous  cellar  saved 
him  from  the  General's  saw-handle.  Is  to-day  the 
latter's  partisan  and  friend.  The  General  Is 
hugely  pleased  by  the  censure-expunging  resolu- 
tion, and  has  what  Senate  ones  supported  it — 
being  fairly  the  whole  Senate,  when  one  forgets 
Machlavelli  Clay,  and  our  chained,  embittered 
Satan,  Statesman  Calhoun — to  a  grand  dinner 
in  the  East  Room. 

And  now  the  official  times  wag  prosperously 
with  the  General.  His  friends  are  everywhere 
dominant,  his  enemies  everywhere  In  retreat. 
Also  his  hair,  from  iron  gray,  fades  to  milk- 
white. 

Since  nothing  peculiar  presses  upon  him  in 

315 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

the  way  of  opposition,  the  General  falls  111.  He 
makes  little  of  this,  however;  and  cures  himself 
with  tobacco,  coffee,  calomel,  and  lancets,  while 
outraged  doctors  groan.  Likewise,  he  burns 
midnight  oil  In  planning  with  Wizard  Lewis 
the  elevation  of  Vice-President  Van  Buren, 
who  he  Is  resolved  shall  have  the  presidency 
after  him. 

While  thus  the  General  lays  his  Van  Buren 
plans,  misguided  admirers  bombard  him  with 
such  marks  of  their  regard  as  a  phaeton  built 
of  unbarked  hickory,  and  a  cheese  weighing 
fourteen  hundred  pounds.  The  latter  sturdy 
confection  is  trundled  Into  the  White  House 
kitchen,  from  which  coign  of  vantage  it  sends 
on  high  a  perfume  so  utterly  urgent  that  none 
may  stay  in  the  White  House  until  It  Is  re- 
moved. Following  its  going,  the  executive  win- 
dows are  thrown  open  throughout  a  wind-swept 
afternoon,  to  the  end  that  the  last  suffocating 
reminder  of  that  cheese  shall  be  eliminated. 

The  General's  hours  as  President  are  draw- 
ing to  a  close.  His  hopes  touching  a  succes- 
sor carry  through  triumphantly,  and  Vice-Presi- 
dent Van  Buren  Is  selected  to  follow  him. 
Neither  Machiavelll  Clay  for  the  Whigs,  nor 
Statesman  Calhoun  among  the  Democrats,  has 

316 


?  7  ^-^^  ^^<-^-fj  U^L-^>^<^ 


THE      ROUT     OF     TREASON 

the  courage  to  offer  his  own  name  to  the 
people. 

Statesman  Calhoun,  aiming  to  subtract  as 
much  as  he  may  from  the  fortunes  of  nominee 
Van  Buren,  produces  a  bolting  ticket,  headed 
by  one  Mangum;  and,  for  Mangum,  Palmetto- 
rattlesnake  South  Carolina — still  In  a  tearful 
pout — wastes  Its  lonely  arrow  in  the  air.  It 
was,  It  will  be,  ever  thus  with  South  Carolina, 
who  might  do  herself  a  good,  and  come  to  some 
true  notion  of  her  own  peevish  Inconsequence, 
If  she  would  but  take  a  long,  hard  look  In  the 
glass.  She  is  as  one  who  attends  the  fairs,  but 
so  over-esteems  herself  as  to  defeat  every  bar- 
gain she  might  make.  Her  best  chances  are  cast 
away,  a  cheap  sacrifice  to  vanity,  since  no  one 
will  either  buy  her  or  sell  her  at  the  figure  she 
sets  on  herself.  Thus,  too,  will  It  continue. 
Her  frayed  prospects,  already  behind  a  fashion, 
are  to  wax  more  shopworn  and  more  threadbare 
as  the  years  unfold. 

Nominee  Van  Buren  Is  elected  to  succeed  the 
General  In  the  White  House,  and  every  friend 
of  the  latter  votes  for  the  little  polite  man  of 
Kinderhook.  The  General  Is  delighted,  since 
the  elevation  of  nominee  Van  Buren  provides 
for    a    continuation    of    his    darling    policies. 

317 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

Wizard  Lewis  Is  delighted,  because  the  new 
situation  permits  the  return  of  himself  and  his 
beloved  General  to  their  homes  by  the  Cumber- 
land. Nor  does  it  detract  from  the  satisfac- 
tion of  either  that,  with  the  presidential  com- 
ing of  the  Kinderhook  one,  the  final  door  of 
political  hope  is  barred  fast  In  the  faces  of 
Machiavelli  Clay  and  Statesman  Calhoun;  for 
both  the  General  and  Wizard  Lewis  hate  these 
two  as  though  that  hatred  were  a  religious  rite. 
At  last  dawns  President  Van  Buren's  in- 
auguration morning,  and  the  General  stands  for 
the  last  time  before  a  people  whose  good  and 
whose  honor  he  has  so  jealously  guarded.  Of 
this  farewell  appearance,  poet  Willis  writes: 

"The  air  was  elastic;  the  day  bright  and 
still.  More  than  twenty  thousand  people  had 
assembled.  The  procession,  the  General  and 
Mr.  Van  Buren  riding  uncovered,  arrived  a 
little  after  noon.  Their  carriage,  drawn  by 
four  grays,  paused.  Descending  from  it  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps,  a  passage  was  made  through 
the  crowd,  and  the  tall  white  head  of  the  old 
chieftain  went  steadily  up.  The  crowd  of  dip- 
lomats and  senators  to  the  rear  gave  way.  A 
murmur  of  feeling  rose  up  from  the  moving 
mass  below,  as  the  infirm  old  General,  coming 
as  he  had  from  a  sick  chamber  which  his  physi- 

318 


THE      ROUT     OF     TREASON 

clans  had  thought  It  Impossible  he  should  leave, 
stood  bowed  before  the  people." 

In  his  address  the  General  touches  many 
things.  He  closes  by  saying:  ''  My  own  race  is 
nearly  run.  Advanced  age  and  falling  health 
warn  me  that  I  must  soon  pass  beyond  the  reach 
of  human  events.  I  thank  God  my  life  has 
been  spent  In  a  land  of  liberty,  and  that  He 
gave  me  a  heart  wherewith  to  love  my  country. 
Filled  with  gratitude,  I  bid  you  farewell." 


XXV 

THE    GRAVE    AT    THE 
GARDEN'S    FOOT 


CHAPTER  XXV 


THE  GRAVE  AT  THE  GARDEN's  FOOT 


THE  General  wends  his  slow  way  home- 
ward, and  Is  two  months  about  the 
journey.  His  progress,  broken  by 
many  stops,  Is  like  both  a  triumph  and  a  fu- 
neral; for  double  ranks  of  worshipers  line  the 
route  and  sob  or  cheer  as  he  passes.  The 
harsh  horse-face  Is  seamed  of  care  and  worn 
by  sickness;  but  the  slim  form  Is  still  erect  and 
lance-like,  and  the  blue  eyes  gleam  as  hawkishly 
dangerous  as  when,  behind  his  low  mud  walls 
with  the  faithful  Coffee  and  his  hunting-shirt 
men,  he  broke  down  England's  pride  at  New 
Orleans.  Everywhere  the  people  press  about 
him;  for  republics  are  not  ungrateful,  and  for 
once  in  a  way  of  politics  It  is  the  setting,  not 
the  rising  sun  upon  which  all  eyes  are  centered. 
In  the  end  he  reaches  home,  and  his  country 
of  the  Cumberland,  as  on  many  a  former  day, 
opens  Its  arms  to  receive  him. 

323 


WHEN     MEN     GREW    TALL 

And  now  the  General,  for  all  his  sickness  and 
his  well-nigh  threescore  years  and  ten,  must 
bend  himself  to  his  labors  as  a  planter;  for  he 
has  come  back  very  poor.  He  has  his  acres 
and  his  slaves;  but  debts  have  piled  themselves 
high,  and  the  tooth  of  decay  can  do  a  devas- 
tating deal  in  eight  years. 

The  General  goes  to  work  as  though  life  Is 
just  begun.  The  fences  are  renewed,  the  build- 
ings repaired,  while  the  plow  breaks  fresh  fur- 
rows In  fields  that  have  lain  fallow  too  long. 
To  finance  his  plans,  he  borrows  ten  thousand 
dollars  from  Editor  Blair.  Later,  by  a  huddle 
of  months.  Congress  repays  him  that  one- 
thousand-dollar  fine,  of  which  a  quarter  of  a 
century  before  he  was  mulcted  In  New  Orleans. 
This  latter.  Interest  swollen.  Is  twenty-seven 
hundred  dollars — a  sum  not  treated  lightly  In 
this  hour  of  his  narrowed  fortunes ! 

All  goes  prosperously.  The  generous  soil,  as 
though  for  welcome  to  the  General,  grants  such 
crops  of  cotton  that  the  wondering  Cumberland 
folk,  as  once  they  did  aforetime,  come  miles  to 
view  his  fields.  When  not  busy  with  his  plant- 
ing, the  General  Is  Immersed  In  politics.  Each 
day  he  rides  down  to  Wizard  Lewis  four  miles 
below;  or  Wizard  Lewis  rides  those  four  miles 

324 


GRAVE    AT    GARDEN'S    FOOT 

up  to  the  Hermitage.  Being  together,  the  pair, 
over  pipe  and  moderate  glass,  sagely  consider 
the  state  of  the  nation.  ^ 

Down  by  the  General's  gate  Is  a  large- 
stomached  mail  box.  Each  morning  finds  It 
stuffed  to  suffocation  with  sheaves  of  letters  and 
papers  tied  In  bundles.  Also  there  are  shoals 
and  shoals  of  visitors.  For  the  General's  home 
is  a  Mecca  of  politics,  to  which  pilgrims  of 
party  turn  their  steps  by  ones  and  twos  and  tens. 
Some  come  to  do  the  stark  old  General  honor; 
some  are  one-time  comrades,  or  friends  who 
rose  up  around  him  on  fields  of  party  war.  For 
the  most,  however,  and  because  humanity  Is 
selfish  before  it  Is  either  just  or  generous,  the 
visitors  are  oflice-seeking  folk,  who  ask  the 
magic  of  the  General's  signature  to  their  ap- 
peals. 

These  selfish  ones  become.  In  their  vermin 
number  and  persistency,  a  very  plague.  They 
wring  from  the  suffering  General  the  follow- 
ing : 

"  The  good  book,  Major,"  says  he  to  Wiz- 
ard Lewis,  "  tells  us  that  at  the  beginning  there 
were  In  Eden  a  man,  a  woman,  and  an  office 
seeker  who  had  been  kicked  out  of  heaven  for 
preaching   '  Nullification  ' !      To  judge   of  the 

325 


WHEN    MEN     GREW    TALL 

visiting  procession,  as  It  streams  In  and  out  of 
my  front  gate,  I  should  say  that  the  latter  In 
his  descendants  has  Increased  and  multiplied  far 
beyond  the  other  two.'' 

The  French  king  forgets  and  forgives  those 
grievous  five  millions,  and  dispatches  an  artist 
of  celebration  to  paint  the  General's  portrait. 
The  artist  finds  the  latter  of  a  mind  to  humor 
the  French  king.  The  portrait  Is  painted — a 
striking  likeness ! — and  the  gratified  artist  car- 
ries It  victoriously  across  seas  to  his  royal 
master. 

The  General  becomes  concerned  In  keeping 
England  from  stealing  Oregon,  and  writes  let- 
ters to  the  Government  at  Washington  In  pro- 
test against  It. 

"  Oregon  or  war!  "  Is  his  counsel. 

Just  as  deeply  does  he  Involve  himself  for 
the  admission  of  Texas  Into  the  Union,  declar- 
ing that  of  right  the  nation's  boundary  should 
be,  and,  save  for  the  criminal  carelessness  of 
Statesman  Adams  on  the  occasion  of  the  last 
treaty  with  Spain — made  In  a  Monroe  hour — 
would  be,  the  Rio  Grande.  Statesman  Adams, 
now  In  his  Icy  old  age,  makes  a  speech  In  Bos- 
ton and  denies  this ;  whereat  the  General  retorts 
In  an  open  letter  that  Statesman  Adams  Is  "  a 

326 


Andrew  Jackson 
From  a  portrait  made  at  The  Hermitage,  April  15,  1 845. 


GRAVE    AT    GARDEN'S    FOOT 

monarchist  in  disguise,"  a  *'  traitor,"  a  "  falsi- 
fier," and  his  "  entire  address  full  of  statements 
at  war  with  truth,  and  sentiments  hostile  to 
every  dictate  of  patriotism." 

Machiavelli  Clay  foolishly  invades  the  Cum- 
berland country  on  a  broad  mission  of  personal 
politics,  and  he  like  Statesman  Adams  makes  a 
speech.  Machiavelli  Clay,  however,  does  not 
talk  of  Oregon,  or  Texas,  or  what  shall  be  the 
nation's  foreign  policy,  whether  timid  or  war- 
like. His  is  wholly  and  solely  a  party  oration, 
and  in  it  he  pays  left-handed  tribute  to  Aaron 
Burr,  dead  a  decade.  Machiavelli  Clay  escapes 
no  better  with  his  offensive  eloquence  than  does 
Statesman  Adams.  The  perilous  old  General 
from  his  Hermitage  is  instantly  out  upon  him 
with  another  open  letter,  of  which  the  closing 
paragraph  says: 

"  How  contemptible  does  this  lying  dema- 
gogue appear,  when  he  descends  from  his  high 
place  in  the  Senate,  and  roams  over  the  country 
retailing  slanders  against  the  dead." 

The  General  is  much  refreshed  by  these  out- 
bursts, and,  in  that  contentment  of  soul  which 
follows,  resolves  to  join  the  church.    Long  ago 
he  promised  the  blooming  Rachel,  fast  asleep 
22  327 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

at  the  foot  of  the  garden,  that  once  he  be  free 
from  the  muddy  yoke  of  politics  he  will  accept 
religion,  and  now  he  keeps  his  word.  He  unites 
himself  with  the  congregation  which  worships 
in  that  little  chapel,  aforetime  built  for  the 
blooming  Rachel,  and,  upon  his  coming  into  the 
fold,  there  arises  vast  rejoicing  throughout  the 
ardent  length  and  breadth  of  Cumberland  Pres- 
byterianlsm. 

The  pastor.  Dominie  Edgar,  calls  often  at 
the  Hermitage;  for  he  feels  that  the  General 
may  require  some  special  spiritual  grooming. 
One  day  he  observes  that  convert's  saw-handles, 
oiled  and  neat  and  ready  for  blood,  on  a  man- 
tel, prayerfully  crossed  beneath  a  portrait  of 
the  blooming  Rachel.  The  good  dominie  Is 
shocked,  but  does  not  show  It.  He  picks  up 
one  of  the  saw-handles. 

"  This  has  seen  service,  doubtless,"  he  re- 
marks tentatively. 

"Ay!"  responds  the  General  grimly;  "It 
has  seen  good  service." 

Dominie  Edgar  puts  the  saw-handle  back  In 
place,  and  his  curiosity  pushes  no  farther  afield. 
He  rightly  conjectures  It  to  be  the  weapon 
which  cut  down  the  slanderous  Dickinson,  and 
mentally  holds  that  it  will  more  advantage  the 

328 


GRAVE    AT    GARDEN'S    FOOT 

soul  of  his  convert  to  touch  as  scantily  as  may 
be  upon  topics  so  ferocious.  Shifting  his 
ground,  Dominie  Edgar  asks: 

"General,   do  you   forgive  your  enemies? '' 

"  Parson,"  says  the  convert,  "  I  forgive  my 
enemies,  and  welcome.  But  I  shall  never  " — 
here  he  points  up  at  the  portrait  of  the  bloom- 
ing Rachel,  which  seems  to  lovingly  follow  his 
every  motion  with  Its  painted  patient  eyes — "  I 
shall  never  forgive  her  enemies.  My  feud  shall 
follow  them,  and  the  memory  of  them,  to  the 
end  of  time." 

Dominie  Edgar  sits  down  with  his  convert 
to  show  him  the  error  of  his  obdurate  ways. 
He  lectures  cogently.  It  is  to  be  feared,  how- 
ever, that  his  doctrinal  seed  of  forgiveness  falls 
upon  hard,  Intractable  ground;  for,  while  the 
convert  says  never  a  word,  the  lecture  serves  but 
to  light  again  In  those  blue  eyes  what  lamps  of 
hateful  battle  burned  there  on  a  certain  fierce 
May  morning  In  that  popular  Kentucky  wood. 

The  long  days  come  and  go,  and  the  Gen- 
eral lives  on  in  fortune,  peace,  and  honor. 
Then  the  end  draws  down ;  for  the  General  has 
run  his  threescore  years  and  ten,  and  well-nigh 
ten  years  more.  Wizard  Lewis  sits  by  his 
bedside,  and  never  leaves  him. 

329 


WHEN     MEN     GREW     TALL 

"  I  want  to  go,  Major,"  murmurs  the  Gen- 
eral to  Wizard  Lewis;  "  for  she  Is  over  there." 
He  raises  his  eyes  to  the  portrait  of  the  bloom- 
ing Rachel,  and  looks  upon  it  long  and  lovingly. 
"Major!" — Wizard  Lewis  presses  the  thin 
hand — "  see  that  they  make  my  grave  by  her 
side  at  the  garden's  foot !  " 

The  General  drifts  into  a  stupor.  Wizard 
Lewis  holding  fast  his  hand.  The  good  dom- 
inie Edgar  is  on  his  knees  at  prayer.  From  the 
porch  outside  the  sick  room  are  heard  the  sobs 
and  moans  of  the  mourning  blacks. 

Wizard  Lewis  attempts  to  recall  the  dying 
General. 

"  What  would  you  have  done  with  Cal- 
houn," he  asks,  "  had  he  persisted  in  his  '  Nul- 
lification '  designs?" 

The  blue  eyes  rouse,  and  sparkle  and  glance 
with  old-time  fire. 

"  What  would  I  have  done  with  Calhoun?  " 
repeats  the  General,  his  voice  renewed  and 
strong;  "Hanged  him,  sir! — hanged  him  as 
high  as  Haman !  He  should  have  been  a  warn- 
ing to  traitors  for  all  time !  " 

The  sparkle  subsides;  the  blue  eyes  close 
again  In  the  dullness  of  coming  death.  Wizard 
Lewis  holds  the  poor  thin  hand,  while   Dom- 

330 


GRAVE    AT    GARDEN'S    FOOT 

inie  Edgar  prays  on  to  the  accompaniment  of 
the  sobbing  and  the  moaning  of  the  sorrowing 
blacks. 

The  prayer  ends;  the  good  dominie  rises  to 
his  feet. 

"  Do  you  know  me,  General?  "  he  whis- 
pers. The  dim  eyes  are  lifted  to  those  of  Dom- 
inie Edgar.  The  latter  goes  on:  "  The  love  of 
the  Lord  is  infinite !  In  it  you  shall  find 
heaven!  " 

The  General  turns  with  looks  of  love  to  the 
portrait  of  the  blooming  Rachel. 

"  Parson,"  says  he,  "  I  must  meet  her  there, 
or  it  will  be  no  heaven  for  me." 

The  General's  head  droops  heavily  forward. 
Dominie  Edgar  falls  upon  his  knees,  and  the 
voice  of  his  praying  goes  upward  with  the 
moaning  and  the  sobbing  of  the  slaves.  Wiz- 
ard Lewis  places  his  hand  on  the  General's 
breast.  He  sighs,  and  shakes  his  head.  That 
mighty  heart,  all  love,  all  iron,  is  still. 


(1) 

THE    END 


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vivid  picture  of  those  distressful  times." — Baltiinore  Herald. 

"The  style  of  the  narrative  is  attractively  informal  and  chatty.  Its 
pathos  is  that  of  simplicity.  It  throws  upon  a  cruel  period  of  our  national 
career  a  side-light,  bringing  out  tender  and  softening  interests  too  little  visi- 
ble in  the  pages  of  formal  history." — New  York  World. 

"This  is  a  tale  that  will  appeal  to  every  Southern  man  and  woman,  and 
can  not  fail  to  be  of  interest  to  every  reader.  It  is  as  fresh  and  vivacious, 
even  in  dealing  with  dark  days,  as  the  young  soul  that  underwent  the  hard- 
ships of  a  most  cruel  war." — Louisville  Courier-jfourfial. 

"  The  narrative  is  not  formal,  is  often  fragmentary,  and  is  always  warmly 
human.  .  .  .  There  are  scenes  among  the  dead  and  wounded,  but  as  one 
winks  back  a  tear  the  next  page  presents  a  negro  commanded  to  mount  a 
strange  mule  in  midstream,  at  the  injustice  of  which  he  strongly  protests." — 
New  York  Telegram. 

"Taken  at  this  time,  when  the  years  have  buried  all  resentment,  dulled 
all  sorrows,  and  brought  new  generations  to  the  scenes,  a  work  of  this  kind 
can  not  fail  of  value  just  as  it  can  not  fail  in  interest.  Official  history  moves 
with  two  great  strides  to  permit  of  the  smaller,  more  intimate  events ;  fiction 
lacks  the  realistic,  powerful  appeal  of  actuality ;  such  works  as  this  must  be 
depended  upon  to  fill  in  the  unoccupied  interstices,  to  show  us  just  what 
were  the  lives  of  those  who  were  in  this  conflict  or  who  lived  in  the  midst  of 
it  without  being  able  actively  to  participate  in  it.  And  of  this  type  '  A  Vir- 
ginia Girl  in  the  Civil  War'  is  a  truly  admirable  example." — Fhiladel/>/iia 
Record. 

D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,     NEW     YORK. 


''EVERY   AMERICAN   SHOULD  READ  IT.^ 

— The  Ne<wSf  Pro<vidence, 


The  Life  and  Times  of  Thomas  Jefferson. 

By  Thomas  E.  Watson,  Author  of  **  The  Story  of 
France,"  **  Napoleon,"  etc.  Illustrated  with  many  Portraits 
and  Views.  8vo.  Attractively  bound,  $2.50  net ;  postage, 
17  cents  additional. 

Mr.  Watson  long  since  acquired  a  national  reputation  in  connection 
with  his  political  activities  in  Georgia.  He  startled  the  public  soon 
afterward  by  the  publication  of  a  history  of  France,  which  at  once 
attracted  attention  quite  as  marked,  though  different  in  kind.  His  book 
became  interesting  not  alone  as  the  production  of  a  Southern  man 
interested  in  politics,  but  as  an  entirely  original  conception  of  a  great 
theme.  There  was  no  question  that  a  life  of  Jefferson  from  the  hands  of 
such  a  writer  would  command  very  general  attention,  and  the  publishers 
had  no  sooner  announced  the  work  as  in  preparation  than  negotiations 
were  begun  with  the  author  by  two  of  the  best-known  newspapers  in 
America  for  its  publication  in  serial  form.  During  the  past  summer  the 
appearance  of  the  story  in  this  way  has  created  widespread  comment 
which  has  now  been  drawn  to  the  book  just  published. 

Opinions  by  some  of  the  Leading  Papers. 

"  A  vastly  entertaining;  polemic.  It  directs  attention  to  many  undoubtedly 
neglected  facts  which  writers  of  the  North  have  ig;nored  or  minimized." 

—  The  New  York  Times  Saturday  Review  of  Books. 

"A  noble  work.  *  It  may  well  stand  on  the  shelf  beside  Morley's 
•  Gladstone '  and  other  epochal  biographical  works  that  have  come  into 
prominence.     It  is  deeply  interesting  and  thoroughly  fair  and  just." 

—  The  Globe-Democrat,  St.  Louts. 

*'  The  book  shows  great  research  and  is  as  complete  as  it  could  possibly  be 
and  every  American  should  read  it."— 7^*^  News,  Providence. 

••  A  unique  historical  work."— TA^  Commercial  Advertiser,  New  York. 

"  Valuable  as  an  historical  document  and  as  a  witness  to  certain  great  facts 
in  the  past  life  of  the  South  which  have  seldom  been  acknowledged  by 
historians." — The  Post,  Louisville. 

D.    APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,     NEW     YORK. 


AN  AMERICAN  ADMIRAL. 


Forty-five  Years  Under  the  Flag. 

By  WiNFiELD   Scott   Schley,   Rear- Admiral,  U.  S.  N. 
Illustrated.    8vo.    Cloth,  uncut  edges,  and  gilt  top,  $3.00  net. 

About  one-third  of  Admiral  Schley's  volume  is  devoted  to  the  Spanish 
War,  in  which  he  became  so  great  a  figure.  He  tells  his  own  story  in 
simple  and  effective  words.  His  recollections  are  constantly  reinforced 
by  references  to  dispatches  and  other  documents. 

Readers  will  be  surprised  at  the  extent  of  Admiral  Schley's  experi- 
ences. He  left  the  Naval  Academy  just  before  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil 
War  and  saw  service  with  Farragut  in  the  Gulf.  Three  chapters  are 
devoted  to  Civil  War  events.  His  next  important  service  was  rendered 
during  the  opening  of  Corea  to  the  commerce  of  the  world,  and  the 
chapter  in  which  he  describes  the  storming  of  the  forts  is  one  of  thrilling 
interest.  Another  important  expedition  in  his  life  was  the  rescue  of 
Greely,  to  which  three  chapters  are  devoted.  Two  other  chapters  per- 
tain to  the  Revolution  in  Chili,  and  the  troubles  growing  out  of  the 
attack  upon  some  of  Admiral  Schley's  men  in  the  streets  of  Valparaiso. 

Altogether  the  book  contains  thirty-eight  chapters.  It  has  been  illus- 
trated from  material  furnished  by  Admiral  Schley  and  through  his  sug- 
gestions, and  makes  an  octavo  volume  of  large  size.  It  will  appeal  to 
every  true-hearted  American. 

The  author  says  in  his  preface  :  "  In  times  of  danger  and  duty  the  writer 
endeavored  to  do  the  work  set  before  him  without  fear  of  consequences.  With 
this  thought  in  mind,  he  has  felt  moved,  as  a  duty  to  his  wife,  his  children, 
and  his  name,  to  leave  a  record  of  his  long  professional  life,  which  has  not 
been  without  some  prestige,  at  least  for  the  flag  he  has  loved  and  under  which 
he  has  served  the  best  years  of  his  life.'' 

"  Rear- Admiral  W.  S.  Schley's  'Forty-five  Years  Under  the  Flag'  is  the 
most  valuable  contribution  to  the  history  of  the  American  Navy  that  has  been 
written  in  many  a  year." — New  York  Times. 

"  The  author's  career  is  well  worthy  of  a  book,  and  he  has  every  reason  for 
pride  in  telling  of  his  forty-five  active  years  in  all  parts  of  the  world." 

—Edivin  L.  Shuman  in  the  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

"  It  is  a  stirring  story,  told  with  the  simple  directness  of  a  sailor.  Its  read- 
ing carries  the  conviction  of  its  truthfulness.  The  Admiral  could  not  have 
hoped  to  accomplish  more." — Chicago  Evening  Post. 

"  He  has  told  his  own  story,  in  his  own  way,  from  his  own  viewpoint,  and 
goes  after  his  detractors,  open  and  above  board,  with  his  big  guns." 

—  Washington  Post. 

**  It  is  a  work  that  will  interest  everyone,  from  the  sixteen-year-old  school- 
boy who  is  studying  history  and  loves  tales  of  stirring  adventure  to  the  grand- 
sire  whose  blood  still  pulses  hotly  with  patriotic  pride  at  the  recounting  of 
valiant  deeds  of  arms  under  our  starry  flag." — Boston  A7nerican. 

"The  Admiral  tells  the  story  well.  His  is  a  manly  and  straightforward 
style.     He  leaves  nothing  to  doubt,  nothing  open  to  controversy." 

— Baltimore  Sun. 

D.    APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,    NEW     YORK. 


VIVID,  MOVING,  SYMPATHETIC  HUMOROUS- 


A  Diary  from  Dixie. 

By  Mary  Boykin  Chesnut.  Being  her  Diary  from 
November,  i86i,  to  August,  1865.  Edited  by  Isabella  D. 
Martin  and  Myrta  Lockett  Avary.  Illustrated.  8vo.  Orna- 
mental Cloth,  $2.50  net;  postage  additional. 

Mrs.  Chesnut  was  the  most  brilliant  woman  that  the  South 
has  ever  produced,  and  the  charm  of  her  writing  is  such  as  to 
make  all  Southerners  proud  and  all  Northerners  envious.  She  was 
the  wife  of  James  Chesnut,  Jr.,  who  was  United  States  Senator 
from  South  Carolina  from  1859  to  1861,  and  acted  as  an  aid  to 
President  Jefferson  Davis,  and  was  subsequently  a  Brigadier-Gen- 
eral in  the  Confederate  Army.  Thus  it  was  that  she  was  intimately 
acquainted  with  all  the  foremost  men  in  the  Southern  cause. 

*•  In  this  diary  is  preserved  the  most  moving;  and  vivid  record  of  the  South- 
ern Confederacy  of  which  we  have  any  knowledge.  It  is  a  piece  of  social 
history  of  inestimable  value.  It  interprets  to  posterity  the  spirit  in  which  the 
Southerners  entered  upon  and  struggled  through  the  war  that  ruined  them. 
It  paints  poignantly  but  with  simplicity  the  wreck  of  that  old  world  which  had 
so  much  about  it  that  was  beautiful  and  noble  as  well  as  evil.  Students  of 
American  life  have  often  smiled,  and  with  reason,  at  the  stilted  and  extrava- 
gant fashion  in  which  the  Southern  woman  had  been  described  south  of  Mason 
and  Dixon's  line — the  unconscious  self-revelations  of  Mary  Chesnut  explain, 
if  they  do  not  justify,  such  extravagance.  For  here,  we  cannot  but  believe, 
is  a  creature  of  a  fine  type,  a  '  very  woman,*  a  very  Beatrice,  frank,  impetuous, 
loving,  full  of  sympathy,  full  of  humor.  Like  her  prototype,  she  had  preju- 
dices, and  she  knew  little  of  the  Northern  people  she  criticised  so  severely ; 
but  there  is  less  bitterness  in  the-e  pages  than  we  might  have  expected.  Per- 
haps the  editors  have  seen  to  that.  However  this  may  be  they  have  done 
nothing  to  injure  the  writer's  own  nervous,  unconventional  style— a  style 
breathing  character  and  temperament  as  the  flower  breathes  fragrance." 

— New  York  Tribune. 

"It  is  MTitten  straight  from  the  heart,  and  with  a  natural  grace  of  style 
that  no  amount  of  polishing  could  have  imparted." — Chicago  Record-Herald. 

"The  edit>ors  are  to  be  congratulated  ;  it  is  not  every  day  that  one  comes 
on  such  material  as  this  long-hidden  diary." — Louisville  Evening  Post. 

"  It  is  a  book  that  would  have  delighted  Charles  Lamb." 

— Houston  Chronicle. 

D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,     NEW    YORK. 


A  NOVEL  THAT  IS  ALL  TRUE. 

Bethany  :   A  Story  of  the  Old  South. 

By  Thomas  E.  Watsox,  author  of  "  The  Life 
and  Times  of  Thomas  Jefferson,"  etc.  Illustrated. 
i2mo.     Ornamental  Cloth,  $1.50. 

'•  Few  writers  of  the  present  day  have  reached  the  deserved  literary  emi- 
nence and  prominence  that  has  been  achieved  by  Thomas  E.  Watson,  Presi- 
dential candidate  of  the  People's  Party,  author  of  '  The  Life  and  Times  of 
Thomas  Jefferson '  and  other  important  historical  works.  Mr.  Watson  is  a 
student,  historian,  and  biographer,  as  well  as  a  finished  orator.  It  comes  in 
the  nature  of  a  pleasant  surprise,  therefore,  to  find  that  this  brilliant  author 
has  turned  his  attention  to  fiction.  Probably  no  writer  of  the  present  day 
brings  just  such  broad  knowledge,  scholarly  attainments,  and  intimate  style 
into  the  composition  of  his  books  as  does  Mr.  Watson.  He  is  particularly 
qualified  to  bring  to  a  successful  termination  any  literary  work  he  may  attempt. 
In  '  Bethany  '  he  tells  in  his  brilliant  style  of  the  old  South  as  he  knew  it  in 
his  boyhood.  This  work  is  only  in  part  fiction.  Mr.  Watson  has  succeeded 
admirably  in  picturing  the  life  of  the  people  of  Georgia  during  the  anti- 
slavery  controversy  and  the  war  itself.  In  doing  this  he  has  written  a  book 
that  throbs  with  human  emotions  on  every  page  and  pulsates  with  strong, 
virile  life  in  every  sentence.  Mr.  Watson  has  written  '  Bethany  '  from  the  heart 
as  well  as  from  the  head.  With  broad  comprehension  and  unfailing  accuracy 
he  has  drawn  characters  and  depicted  incidents  which  deserve  to  be  considered 
as  models  of  the  people." 

"The  Hon.  Thomas  E.  Watson  of  Georgia  is  a  man  of  many  parts. 
Above  all  he  is  still  able  to  learn,  as  those  who  will  compare  the  second  part 
of  his  '  Stor>'  of  France'  with  the  first  may  easily  see.  In  '  Bethany  :  A  Story 
of  the  Old  South,'  he  plunges  into  romance,  it  seems  to  us  with  complete  suc- 
cess. The  story  is  told  directly,  clearly,  in  excellent  English,  and  is  as  vivid  a 
oicture  of  a  Southern  family  during  the  war  as  anyone  could  wish  for." 

— New  York  Sun. 

"As  a  '  true  picture  of  the  times  and  the  people,'  as  of  war  and  its  horrors, 
the  book  will  be  welcomed  by  both  North  and  South.  Clear,  simple,  occa- 
sionally abrupt,  the  story  is  always  subordinated  to  the  historical  facts  that  lie 
back,  of  it.  Yet  it  cannot  be  gainsaid  that  each  illumines  the  other,  nor  that 
'  Bethany '  possesses  distinct  value  as  a  just  and  genuine  contribution  to  the 
literature  of  the  present  '  Southern  revival.'  " — Chicago  Record-Herald. 

"  The  love-story  of  the  young  soldier  and  his  faithful  sweetheart  is  a  per- 
fect idyll  of  old  plantation  life,  and  its  sad  ending  fits  properly  into  the  tragedy 
of  that  fearful  war." — St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat. 

D.    APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,    NEW     YORK. 


A  STORY  OF  AMERICAN  LIFEL 


David  Harum. 

Illustrated  Edition.  With  70  full-page  and 
text  pictures  by  B.  West  Clinedinst,  and  other 
text  designs  by  C.  D.  Farrand,  and  a  biography 
of  the  author  by  Forbes  Heermans.  i2mo. 
$1.50. 

'•What  seems  to  us  to  be  the  final  judgment  of  'David  Harum'  is 
given  in  the  N^orth  American  Review  by  no  less  a  personage  than  John 
Oliver  Hobbes.     This  review  strikes  at  the  root  of  the  matter. 

"  '  It  would  not  be  presumptuous  to  say,'  opines  Mrs.  Craigie,  'well 
remembering  the  magnificent  ability  of  certain  English  authors  of  the 
present  day,  that  not  one  could  create  a  character  which  would  win  the 
whole  English  population  as  David  Harum  has  won  the  American 
public.  The  reason  is  plain.  With  so  many  class  distinctions,  a  na- 
tional figure  is  out  of  the  question.  A  national  hero — yes;  but  a  man 
for  "  winterin'  and  summerin"  with" — no.  Social  equality  and  inde- 
pendence of  thought,  in  spite  of  all  abortive  attempts  to  introduce  the 
manners  and  traditions  of  feudal  Europe,  are  in  the  very  air  of  the 
United  States.  One  could  not  find  an  American  man  or  woman  of  the 
true  stock  who  had  not  known  intimately,  or  who  did  not  count  among 
his  or  her  ancestors,  connections,  relatives,  a  David  Harum.  The  type, 
no  doubt,  is  getting  old  :  becoming  more  and  more  "removed"  from  the 
younger  generation.  In  the  course  of  the  next  twenty  years  it  may 
become  so  changed  as  to  seem  extinct,  but  it  is  a  national  figure — cer- 
tainly the  most  original,  probably  the  purest  in  blood.  And  the  spirit 
of  Harum  is  the  undying  spirit — no  matter  how  much  modified  it  may 
eventually  become  by  refinement,  travel,  and  foreign  influence — of  the 
American  people.  Individuals  may  change,  but  the  point  of  view 
remains  unalterable. '  " — New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"  '  David  Harum '  is  one  of  those  extremely  rare  and  perfectly  fresh 
creations  in  current  fiction  which  really  enrich  our  literature.  In  brief, 
it  is  a  masterpiece,  and  one  that  deserves  an  immense  popularity.  No 
words  can  adequately  describe  its  wholesome,  sparkling  humor,  its  quaint 
and  endearing  originality,  its  genuine  Yankee  wit  and  native  shrewdness. 
A  well-nigh  perfect  work  it  is — a  creation  which  will  take  a  permanent 
place  among  American  literary  portraits." — Literary  Review. 


D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,     NEW    YORK. 


AN    INSPIRING   BOOK* 


The  Young  Man  and  the  World. 

By  Albert  J.  Beveridge,  U.  S.  Senator  from  Indiana, 
Author  of  "The  Russian  Advance."  i2mo.  Ornamental 
Cloth,  $1.50  net. 

This  book  will  go  into  every  household  where  there  is  a  son  and  a 
mother.  It  is  a  talk  with  the  young  man  about  the  young  man  of 
the  young  man's  country  by  its  most  prominent  young  man. 

Plowboy  at  12  ;  logger  at  14  ;  graduated  from  college,  De  Pauw,  at  23  ; 
plainsman,  law  clerk,  lawyer  ;  U.  S.  Senator  at  36 — that  is  what  Senator 
Beveridge,  poor  and  without  a  pull,  has  done  by  sheer  pluck  and  hard 
work.  And  his  steady  conservative  work  in  the  Senate  has  won  him  the 
equal  regard  of  older  men  also.     His  name  spells  success. 

Bishop  Charles  C.  AlcCabe  says  :     "  I  wish  that   20,000,000  copies  of 

the  book  might  be  published." 

John  Mitchell S2iys  :  "I  trust  it  may  have  a  place  in  the  life  and 
in  the  home  of  every  young  man." 

Alfred  Henry  Lewis  says  :  "  It  is  a  sparkling  well-head  of  courage, 
optimism,  and  counsel." 

Senator  William  P.  Frye  says:  "I  have  no  hesitation  in  com- 
mending it  to  the  young  men  of  our  country." 

Speaker  J.  G.  Cannon  says:  "It  is  a  very  interesting  book  by  a 
very  interesting  man." 

Representative  Champ  Clark  says :  "  It  is  very  worthy  the  perusal 
of  every  youth  in  the  land." 

David  War  field  says  :     "  If  the  reader  heeds  its  precepts 

'  It  must  follow  as  the  night  the  day 
Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man.' 

Haiti  let.  Act  1,  Sc.  5." 

James  Rudolph  Garfield  says  :     "  I  have  read  it  with  a  great  deal  of 

interest." 

President  Edwin  H.  Hughes  says  :  "  Any  young  man  who  reads 
this  book  cannot  fail  to  be  made  stronger  and  better." 

President  W.  E.  Stone  says :  "  It  is  brim  full  of  suggestions  which 
every  young  man  should  know  and  heed." 

General  Charles  King  says  :  "  Here  is  a  book  our  American  youth 
may  study  with  his  Bible." 

A  cowboy  in  Arizona  writes  :  "  It  is  the  embodiment  of  every- 
thing honorable,  noble,  and  upright  in  life." 

D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY.     NEW     YORK. 


REVISED    NEW    EDITION. 


The  Presidents  of  the  United  States. 

By  John  Fiske,  Carl  Schurz,  Robert  C.  Winthrop,  Daniel  G. 
Oilman,  William  Walter  Phelps,  George  Ticknor  Curtis,  George 
Bancroft,  John  Hay  and  others.  Edited  by  General  James  Grant 
Wilson.  New  and  revised  edition  with  complete  life  of  William  McKinley 
and  sketch  of  Theodore  Roosevelt.  Illustrated  with  steel  engraviogs  and 
photogravures.    8vo.     Cloth.     $3.50.     Half  Morocco,  or  Half  Calf,  |6.oo. 


This  book  has  been  the  standard  authority  for  many  years  and 
justly  so.  Its  list  of  contributors  lifts  it  far  above  the  commonplace, 
and  infinitely  removes  it  from  the  possibility  of  political  coloring  or 
sectionalism.  The  article  on  President  McKinley  gives  a  brief  and 
accurate  resume  of  the  Spanish  war  while  the  book  as  a  whole  is  a 
composite  review  of  the  constittitional  history  of  the  United  States 
with  the  White  House  as  the  keynote. 


"A  book  well  worth  owning,  for  reading  and  for  reference." — The  Outlook. 

"Such  a  work  as  this  can  not  fail  to  appeal  to  the  pride  of  patriotic  Americans." 
— Chicago  Dial. 

"  A  monumental  volume,  which  no  American  who  cares  for  the  memorj'  of  the 
public  men  of  his  country  can  afford  to  be  without." — Neiv  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"A  valuable  addition  to  both  our  biographical  and  historical  literature,  and 
meets  a  want  long  recognized."— ^(?5/£'«  Advertiser. 

"  A  book  which  every  one  should  read  over  and  over  again.  .  .  .  We  have  care- 
fully run  through  it,  and  laid  it  down  with  the  feeling  that  some  such  book  ought  to 
find  its  way  into  every  household." — New  York  Herald. 

"General  Wilson  has  performed  a  public  service  in  presenting  this  volume  to  the 
public  in  so  attractive  a  shape.  It  is  full  of  incentive  to  ambitious  youth  ;  it  abounds 
in  encouragement  to  every  patriotic  heart." — Charleston  N^ews  and  Courier. 

"  It  is  precisely  the  book  which  ought  to  have  a  very  wide  sale  in  this  country — 
a  book  which  one  needs  to  own  rather  than  to  read  and  lay  aside.  No  common- 
school  library  or  collection  of  books  for  young  readers  should  be  without  it." — 
The  Churchman. 

"These  names  are  in  themselves  sufficient  to  guarantee  adequacy  of  treatment 
and  interest  in  the  presentation,  and  it  is  safe  to  say  that  such  succinct  biographies 
of  the  complete  portrait  gallery  of  our  Presidents,  written  with  such  unquestioned 
ability,  have  never  before  been  published." — Hartjord  Courant. 

"Just  the  sort  of  book  that  the  American  who  wishes  to  fix  in  his  mind  the 
varying  phases  of  his  country's  history  as  it  is  woven  on  the  warp  of  the  adminis- 
trations will  find  most  useful.  Everything  is  presented  in  a  clear-cut  way,  and  no 
pleasanter  excursions  into  history  can  be  found  than  a  study  of  'The  Presidents  of 
the  United  States.'  " — Philadelphia  Press. 

D.     APPLETON     AND    COMPANY,     NEW    YORK. 


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